A Hero's Savior
by Chloe Winchester
Summary: "Don't scream. Absolutely do not scream. I know it hurts, trust me, I know but do. Not. Scream." Tortured!Tony, ConcernedComforting!Steve. Superhusbands. WARNING: VERY STRONG CONTENT
1. Chapter 1

**-This is brutal folks, _brutal. _Read at your own risk, only warning I'm giving.-**

**A Hero's Savior**

_Don't scream. Absolutely do not scream._

_I know it hurts, trust me, I know but do. Not. Scream._

The electricity coursed through the wires inside of him again, the arc nearly dangling in front of his chest, pushed aside for this tiny rod to toy with what's inside. Then the knife would come, slice him a few times, let the salted drops coating his skin seep into the wounds. And he bit back every scream, jutted his chin at them, fought at the barbed wire holding his wrists wide above his head, hot brick at his back, a harsh florescent bulb above him. He would not give in. He would not scream.

Not for awhile. Not for a week of this. One hundred and sixty-eight hours of pain and torture. Then, _then_ he couldn't fight anymore. His reactor was dim, body limp, hair sweaty and grimy and hanging in pieces around his forehead. And the blood. So much...

At least he thought so before he was whipped until he blacked out, his throat unable to work properly from screaming for days following the treatment. He was positively soaked from head to toe, fearing they had broken his back like they had already done to his fingers. A molar had been ripped out with the threat of his tongue following. Castration was threatened too, and if his gums weren't so swollen he might've come up with something clever to say about that, at least until they poured the salt in his mouth. Once his screams had died to whimpers they tied a wooden bar into his mouth, like a bridle, silencing any verbal defiance against them. And naked. Naked since he arrived.

No food. No water. No sleep. If he passed out he was drenched in bucket after bucket of cold water, _icy_ water that froze his bones and made him tremble for hours. Tortured mercilessly for what felt like years and only took weeks. Again. All over again.

"Where's your precious captain?" One hissed, fisting his hair, staring into his sleep heavy, black eyes that were pouring tears he couldn't stop. "Huh? Tell me." He violently ripped the gag from his teeth, tearing his lips.

"I don't know," he breathed shakily. "But when he gets here he...he's gonna kick your ass."

Beaten, the gag in place, blindfolded as well now, never know what would happen next. The old routine of shocking his insides, slicing at his neck and once to his cheek before repeating. The tiny device burned him just beneath his eye, shocking him simultaneously, finding its way to other sensitive areas on his body that caused him to squirm and finally, _finally_, beg.

"Enough," Three hundred and thirty-six hours. "Please, please, I can't. No more, please, please!" They laughed. Spit in his face and laughed. The device was removed but they continued to touch him. He jerked away, blind and mostly mute, screaming, pleading. They struck the bridle in his mouth, tearing its his tongue and his cheeks. Salt again. He sobbed hard, his hands long-since numbed by the barbs, fingers twitching against his will, nearly all of them bent at odd angles, broken.

_Just let me die. _Four hundred and fifty-six hours. _Let me die, please._

He tried thinking of Steve saving him, but quickly cast it away, wanting no part of that angelic face and completely good, completely innocent man here. Nothing as good as him should be near this place.

So exhausted, so done. They gave him water to keep him alive, the smallest morsels of bread to sustain him just for awhile. Until they were done with him. And he had no clue what they wanted.

Now he shuddered, wheezing for air, the arc still surging and dimming, battered as he was. His arms hung bloody from the unrelenting binds on his wrists, the cloth blinding him soaked in sweat, tears and the water that he'd been doused in, the gag rubbing raw patches on the corners of his mouth and his lips, waiting for it to end. For it all to just _end_.

The door again. He winced, shaking his head and whimpering, trembling that much harder, begging wordlessly over what they were saying in hope of a shred of mercy.

"Shh, Tony, Tony, hey." Blindfold gently taken away. "Shh, listen, it's okay." Gag eased from his lips, bindings ripped from the wall. "I'm here, look at me." He squinted against the sudden harsh light, hissing, crying. "Hang on, hang on." The light blinked out, unscrewed, before he was gently lowered to the ground, most of him able to curl into the warmth of this body. "Now look at me, please."

There he was with those big blue eyes and that precious smile on a weary face, a beacon of light in this awful place. An angel stumbled into Hell. "Shh..." He cupped his cheek, glove removed. "It's okay, it's alright now, I've got you."

"Steve!" He croaked, sobbing. "Don't let go, please, don't let me go."

He was so weak, so dizzy and aching, anguish and fever wracking his smaller frame. "I won't," he breathed, afraid to speak too loudly and break him. "I won't just let me get this off." He unraveled the barbs as carefully and gently as he could, shushing him softly, holding him cautiously. "It's okay, shh...almost done, almost done." He hugged him tightly, running his fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead. "Shh, I'm gonna take you home, okay? I'm gonna get you out of here. Shh...We're leaving I promise." Tony cried into his chest, still unable to breathe properly. Steve held both him and the loosened reactor, trying to keep himself together and keep his hands from shaking. "God, Tony, what...what can I do? I don't know what to do with this."

"Bruce," he breathed shakily. "Bruce c-can fix it." He rocked him for a moment, still shushing him as he stood on shaky knees, holding him bridal style in his arms. Tony's head lolled in the crook of his arm, unable to curl his fingers in the fabric of the spandex suit like he wanted, the bones bent and jagged, his mouth swollen so he could hardly speak. He shut his eyes, swallowing hard, his throat searing. Tears fell from his eyes, falling without his consent or much thought about it.

"It's alright," Steve whispered, trying be as careful as he could with him. "I'm gonna get you help, I promise."

"St-Steve, I-I'm dying," he gasped.

"Not today," he said, shaking his head, a tear making its way to his cheek. "Don't you leave me, Tony Stark. I swear if you do I...I'll never speak to you again!" He shook his head, realizing what he'd said. A ghost of a smile fell on his lips, despite all the agony.

"I'll try," he breathed.

Tony shut his eyes, feeling the air get cooler, empty, the humidity zapped from the air, the lights brighter above his closed lids. Then came voices, dozens, some he recognized, some unfamiliar and bizarre.

"Dr. Banner!" Steve called,startling him. "Just hang on, Tony, hang on."

"Oh my God," Bruce whispered, close. "Put him down, carefully. EVERYBODY OUT!" Tony winced again, shuddering. There was a scramble of feet that slowly died away as Steve's hands left him and cool cloth met his skin. Crisp, sanitized cloth that would scrape his skin if he moved about. The jacket was replaced with a thin blanket designed to hold heat. He was still cold, still refusing to open his eyes and send his head spinning, searching for Steve and finding him upset and nearly undone. He just didn't want to see it. Not yet.

"Tony," Bruce said softly, carefully holding his face. "Tony, look at me, it's alright." He shook his head, moaning almost inaudibly. "Jarvis, turn the lights down." The pounding brightness faded to a soft glow, the pain in his head dimming to give way to the agony in the rest of him. "Can you look at me now?"

His cracked his eyes open, meeting Bruce's patient ones, trembling. "There, see? You're safe now, it's okay." He was rushed, worried, knowing he needed to work quickly. "I'm gonna fix the reactor, okay? I'm gonna fix it, I promise. I will not let this kill you, okay?"

Tony nodded, feeling a hand on the back of his. _Steve_.

The edges of his vision were getting dark, his body succumbing to exhaustion and pain.

"It's okay," Steve's voice through the muddled dark. "I've got you. I've got you..."

* * *

Tbc...


	2. Chapter 2

**A Hero's Savior**

Steve was pacing outside the operating room, wishing the humming from this stupid thing's engines would stop. One of Fury's mobile command centers that was hovering over the Atlantic. The outer wear of his uniform was gone, leaving him the base blue and boots, going out of his mind.

"Is he going to be alright?" Thor asked, leaning against the wall behind him.

"I dunno," he breathed. "Maybe."

"Tony is strong," he assured. "He is a brave warrior, he will live through this."

"You didn't see him," Steve said, shaking his head and swallowing thickly. "You didn't see what they did to him, how badly he was hurt. "

_He was scared. He's so scared..._

He wiped a hand over his face, shaking his head. "You didn't see him."

He shut his eyes, leaning against the wall, just wishing he could go back and save him from this. He couldn't get the image of seeing him hanging there out of his mind. The tears and blood soaking his body, caked in it. The black bruises on his ribs, the slow, shallow, hitched breaths he was desperately trying to manage, the reactor flickering like an ominous bulb, his body shaking from head to toe with no way to stop it.

He felt so helpless, at the mercy of time and Tony's strength and will to hang on. He thought back to all of those times he jumped into the line of fire to save everyone else, talked about the Avengers as if he wasn't one of them. He didn't think he was worth it. He never thought he was worth it.

The waiting was killing him, driving him to absolute madness. He just wanted to be close to him, wanted to make sure he was okay, to let him know the pain would stop soon and he would be okay, hold him. Just hold him.

He didn't move for hours, twisting his engagement ring around and around, thinking back to when he'd gotten it.

"_Tony, what is it?" I sighed, a hand over my eyes as instructed._

"_Just a little something I picked up for you while I was in Paris," he said, the smile apparent in his voice. "Here." I opened his eyes, and my jaw dropped. A silver ring sat in his palm, gleaming back at me. Tony glanced at me, his eyes nervous behind his smirk, truly worried. _

"_That...that's a ring," I said bluntly._

"_Very astute, Captain," the vulnerability was still there. "So...um, what do you think?" I blanched, fully understanding what he was asking now. _

"_You...you really want to...?" _

_He swallowed, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, why not?" _

_I looked from him to the ring, heart pounding. "Yes," I nodded, "absolutely yes." He grinned and tossed it to me. "Aren't you suppose to get on your knee or something?" _

"_Nuh uh. Brand new slacks, not gonna happen," he teased, going back to his desk and smiling at me. _

He opened his eyes again, hands itching to tear apart the people that did this, heart tugging at his brain to let him see Tony, to storm in there and demand to just sit with him. He wouldn't be in the way, wouldn't cause a fuss he only wanted to see if Tony was alright. Or if he was going to...

It was funny, thinking about it now. He always saw Tony as someone that almost couldn't be hurt. The suit was an illusion, _he_ was an illusion. His snark, his mystery, his denial of all feeling and emotion besides anger, pleasure and indifference all of it wrapped up in an iron suit that hid his face, his reactions, made him so stony-faced and untouchable. Then seeing him like that...

He waited. He didn't have a choice. Hours of pacing turned to hours of leaning against this wall and praying with everything he had that Tony would be okay. He didn't notice Bruce standing in front of him until he felt a careful hand rest on his shoulder. "Steve?"

His eyes opened to meet Bruce's. The doctor smiled wearily, patiently, trying to look more optimistic than his drained body would allow. "Is he okay?" Steve asked cautiously, so afraid of what he would hear.

"He's gonna be alright," he nodded. "I got the reactor working again before the shrapnel got there. He's dehydrated, malnourished and the hypothermia took a lot out of him. He's lost a lot of blood...Steve, I'm gonna tell you right now, he shouldn't be alive. I don't know how he made it through all of that without anything to help him, but he did. God help him, he did," he sighed, exasperated. "I guess he's just too damn stubborn." Steve nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"But he is gonna be okay?"

Bruce nodded. "It's gonna take awhile," he warned, "but in time he'll be alright. Knowing him it'll be a lot sooner than expected."

"I-I can see him, right?"

"He's asleep. Probably will be for a few days but you're more than welcome to sit with him," he explained.

"Bruce," he said softly, stopping him from walking away. "What did these people do to him?" He pursed his lips, his eyes sad and wary, glancing at the chart in his hands.

"Cap', what they _didn't_ do to him would be a much shorter list." He cautiously handed him the clipboard, wondering how big of a mistake it would be. He squeezed his shoulder again before leaving him alone in the hall.

Steve walked shakily into Tony's room, so tired, weak and worn. He felt the tears well as he looked at him, face swollen, dotted with scratches and bruises ranging from black to a violent purple on his cheeks, eyes swollen and blackened, lips puffy from their own injuries. Seven of his fingers were splinted, taped or pinned, his left index finger and both thumbs the only ones untouched.

"Hey," he gulped, falling in the chair beside him, hand over his. His wrists were wrapped in thick bandages, his shoulders set and wrapped, put back in place after hanging there for days. The blankets insulated his heat, tubes in his nose and his arms, so many monitors blinking and beeping in the otherwise silent room. "Bruce told me you were too stubborn to let go," he whispered. "I believe it." He sniffed, trying so desperately not to let the tears fall. "God, Tony, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry we didn't find you sooner. We looked everywhere, we did everything we could and it wasn't enough. I tried...God, I tried. You have to know I tried harder than anyone to get to you sooner." He traced the back of his hand, the stinging and blurring his vision was succumbing to becoming harder and harder to ignore. "We'll find the engagement ring. I don't know if they took it or...I'll find it, I promise." He reached to smooth his hair, stopping himself, hand shaking. "I don't know how, but I'm gonna make this right. And I'll...I'll be here for you, okay? Every single minute, I'll be here. I swear."

He looked down at the chart in his hands, swallowing.

Five minutes later it clattered to the floor, his hands covering his face, quiet sobs muffled by the monitors.

* * *

"You have another three seconds to tell me why you took him before I break off your thumb and permanently attach it to your forehead," Natasha said darkly, never breaking eye-contact with the man in front of her.

"Just take us to jail, slut," he hissed, his voice almost inhuman, black eyes glaring at her, something of a smile on his face. "Your facility won't hold us long, anyway."

Widow stared at him, cocking her head. "If that's how you want it." She plucked a knife from her belt, raising it while the monster before her cackled.

"Stop!" She whipped around, glaring at Thor. "That will accomplish nothing. Not with his kind," he said darkly.

"Human garbage?" She growled.

"No," he stood beside her, glowering. "Not human in the slightest. This being is not of Earth, neither are his comrades. They are the universe's assassins. Hired hands to murder throughout the galaxies."

"Oh." She turned, knife raised and face contorted in rage once more.

"Natasha!" Thor caught her wrist millimeters above his hand. "Stop. It will accomplish nothing!"

"It'll make me feel better," she said firmly, her icy stare still locked onto the man.

"It will only cause pointless violence. Wait outside, I'll speak to him," he advised. She stared at him, not relinquishing for a second.

"Wouldn't your brother be a little better at this than you?" She said, brow quirked.

"Transporting him from an Asgardian prison to earth is not only time consuming but dangerous."

"I thought you said he was done misbehaving."

"I don't want to tempt my brother into mischief again."

"You going to keep talking or should I take a nap?" The being snarled, imitating a smile once more.

"Why does it look human?" Widow said, still never looking away from it.

"They take shape of the species inhabiting the planet," Thor explained. "It is in their genetics to imitate appearances. One can hardly tell the difference on most planets. Humans are, however, difficult to place." She nodded, pocketing her knife and taking a step back.

"Five minutes and then we try it my way," she warned, keeping her back toward the door when she left.

Thor sat in the chair before him, looking as grave and tired as the rest of his team. "Who sent you to harm Master Stark?" He said.

"Right to it, eh?" It smiled, it's inhumanity bleeding through, tongue forked and purple.

"I do not wish for your or your associates' death. Now who sent you? Was it my brother?" He said evenly. It laughed.

"Loki Laufeyson is not your brother, fool," he said, rolling his eyes. "And he is not the one who hired us. The one who sent us has never met your Stark personally, any of you."

"Why did he do this? What does he want?" He demanded.

The creature smiled, his scales and horns beginning to show through his faux-skin. "To expose the vulnerability of your little gang," he said, leaning back in his chair. "He wears a suit of iron to make him seem impenetrable. A god among men. Like you," he smirked, an odd hissing and clicking in the back of his throat. "Like your green monster. Like you Captain. But the bird, the spider, the man of iron...it's just an illusion of power. You are not impossible to destroy. You are not impossible to eliminate. And he...he is the narcissist. The boastful man that asks for a battle to prove his strength and his godliness," he leaned forward, his smile too wide for human lips, teeth stretching in length, becoming thin and razored. "We took it away. Maybe it'll break him of that attitude."

Thor glared at him, jaw set. "Anthony Stark is a good man. He is just as heroic as any of us-"

"He is a villain with the guise of saving innocents. A wolf in sheep's clothing. The moment it will benefit him he will abandon you," he grinned.

"You do not know him in the slightest," he defended. "He would never-"

"How can you be so sure?"

"As I have told you, he is a _good man_. He sacrificed himself to save a heavily peopled city!"

"He taunts and teases anyone as if it were all a _game_. He cares about only himself. We have seen-"

"You have _seen _villainous renditions of him! You know nothing of his works, of his character. You only perceive what Earth's media has given to the public eye, for any _fool_ to see. You are misguided, blinded. You are ignorant to what you have done and what kind of man you have broken," he pushed his chair back, stepping away. "You will be severely punished for what you have done to him. Death, no doubt when the All Father-"

"Your father is not the least bit frightening to us," he hissed. "Our death is imminent. It was when we began."

Thor frowned, turning to face him again. "This was a suicide mission?" The creature nodded. "When-?"

"In good time, Odinson," he cackled. "In good time."

* * *

Tony slept for three days straight, hardly moving or making a sound. Every now and again his pulse would raise and his breath would stutter. Steve would shush him softly, kiss his forehead or pat his hand to calm him, searching his face to see if the discomfort eased at all. It did. A soft sigh and the occasional jerk and he'd calm again, back into a semi-drug induced sleep.

His fever came and went, bruises changing color by the hour, painkillers pumped into him to save him from the undeniable agony he would endure without them. Pain he didn't deserve. Steve never left. Not once. Not for anything. He slept with his head slumped beside his hand and spent the days in silence, hardly saying a word, his voice soft, rasping when he said "yes," "no," or "are they dead yet?" to Bruce.

Three a.m day four. Tony screamed.

Steve sat up sharply, startled by the outburst, looking up to meet Tony's eyes. He was still half asleep, looking around wildly, utterly confused, scared. So very, very scared.

"Please!" He managed through his damaged and unused vocal chords, voice shaking, eyes leaking tears. Steve cradled his cheek, approaching him slowly, speaking softly.

"Tony, it's me, it's Steve, sweetheart. Shh..." He soothed, holding his face and his shoulder.

"N-no more," he begged, throat clutching on him, swallowing his hiccuped sob.

"That's right, no more," he nodded. "No more. Just go to sleep. I'm right here. Just rest, Tony. It's okay. I'm here. I'm right here. Shh..." He slowly relaxed, leaning into his touch, eyes falling closed without his consent, shaky breaths slowly calming, whimpers falling if Steve tried to move away. "Shh, I've got you. Shh..."

He didn't stay fully conscious for another week. Steve left only to change and shower before he was right back in that chair, waiting, praying, begging for him to be safe again. He longed for a smirk, a snarky comment, something that showed he was still in there, still capable of being the Tony he was before. He could only hope that wasn't impossible to do. If those bastards took him away, broke him so badly there was no putting him back there would be such hell to pay. They would suffer as he did, if not worse. God, he would spill every drop of their blood in his anger.

But he couldn't be angry right now. Not when Tony woke for minutes at a time scared out of his mind, crying and saying his name repeatedly, reaching for him even though it hurt his hands to do so. He had to be calm, had to be gentle and warm. He deserved as much.

He woke with a start one day, the sudden noise of the T.V. jerking him from his slumber.

"Hey, sleepyhead." He looked up at Tony, who was smiling lightly, sitting up and propped on pillows, remote in hand. "Didn't mean to wake you up. Got bored watching you sleep." Steve just stared at him, awed, worried and mildly confused. "You look like hell," he remarked, moving his hair out of his eyes with one of his un-splinted fingers.

"Speak for yourself," he heard himself saying, still unsure as to whether he was dreaming or not. "How, um, how are you feeling?"

"Everything hurts," he said breezily, voice still hoarse. But that tone was there. The "I'm going to ignore this as much as I can and drink it away later" tone that always worried him to no end. "I'm sure the morphine'll make that all go away, though. Good stuff."

Without much thought, Steve's lips rushed to meet his, kissing him too hard and causing a groan of pain to which he quickly pulled away from. "Sorry," he said, still holding his face. "I just...I just missed you." Tony smiled back.

"It's fine. You're alright. Can't hurt worse than my hands," he joked. He didn't laugh.

"Do you need anything?" He said, still watching every line of his face for any sign of something unusual, thinking at any moment he'd wake up from this dream. His smile faltered, tears springing in his eyes so quickly Steve didn't see them for a moment.

"I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go home," his voice cracked on the final word. He stared at his battered hands, blinking rapidly. "I want to go home, Steve."

As gently and carefully as he could muster, Steve wrapped his arms around him, hugging him close, running his fingers through his hair. "Okay. I'll get you home as soon as I can. I promise."

"I'll hold you to it," he said, trying to sound light, wavering voice betraying him, refusing to let a single tear shed, cheek resting against Steve's shoulder. He'd always been very good at ignoring pain.

This time would be no different.


	3. Chapter 3

**A Hero's Savior**

"When can he go home?" Steve asked quietly so as not to wake him.

"It's gonna be another week or two," Bruce explained sadly. "The way his ribs are and the internal work we had to do on his kidneys...he needs to be here in case one of his ribs slip out of place or the stitching comes undone."

"Wouldn't you be able to do that if he were at home? I mean, we're all right there, you'd only be an elevator ride away," he pleaded. Bruce looked at him steadily.

"He wants to go home, doesn't he?" He said quietly. Steve bowed his head, nodding. The doctor sighed, taking off his glasses. "One more week and he can be monitored at home. I can't risk it any sooner than that."

"Okay," Steve nodded, trying to breathe past the lump in his throat. "Thank you."

Bruce nodded, pausing for a moment, hesitating. "Has...has anybody told you about the things that took him?"

His hands clenched into fists, jaw tightening and unwavering, giving a barely visible nod. "Do we know who sent them here yet?"

"No," Bruce sighed. "And they're not talking. We thought the woman would give in yesterday but..." He shook his head.

"Why won't Fury let Natasha in?" He said darkly.

"He doesn't want to incite more conflict between us and them. If it starts a war-"

"They started it first!" He barked, regretting it immediately when Tony shifted. He stepped out of the room wordlessly, Bruce closing the door quietly behind them. "We didn't start this! _They_ took Tony! They're the ones who need to be..." His breath shook, rage in his eyes. "They hurt him, they did those unspeakable things to him and Natasha giving them a taste of their own medicine _is an act of war?_"

"Steve, I'm just the messenger. You'd have to talk to Fury about-"

"Okay, I will. He has no idea-"

"Captain," they turned, watching the silhouette of a leather trench coat sway toward them. "I understand your anger in this situation, but this is a little more diplomatic than we're used to."

"Director Fury, with all do respect, we've tried reaching their government or anyone else on the planet and they've been unresponsive. How do we know if they care about what we do at all?" Bruce reasoned.

"Thor's heading there later to try and figure out what's going on on their end," he explained.

"I heard about what happened the last time Thor spoke to the leaders of another planet," Steve spat. "That turned out a hell of a lot worse than what Agent Romanov could do!"

"Which is why he's taking Loki," he explained. Steve blanched, looking to Bruce, who was equally as shocked.

"Sir-"

"Are you _trying_ to start a fight while we're one man down?" The captain exclaimed, cutting Bruce off.

"Steve-"

"This is insane! Why do we have to go through all of this bureaucratic bullshit to deal with something like this?" He demanded, titles, authorities and respects aside, too tired and too angry to pay much attention to them.

"Because this is how things work now, Captain Rogers. We try not to shoot first and ask questions later. I know you're used to that sort of thing but we've had seventy years to get political. Bringing Loki into this is risky, but our usual PR guy is out of commission right now!" He said darkly, stepping closer to him. "You're tired, you're overworked and overwhelmed. Go get some rest and sit with your fiancee before I change my mind about letting that go."

Steve looked away, waiting for Fury's steps to completely disappear before he moved again.

"It's okay," Bruce assured.

"I shouldn't have done that," he breathed. "I don't know why I..."

"Trust me, I know what it's like to lose control with your anger," he said patiently. "He's right, though. Go get some rest."

"I'm still not leaving," he said firmly.

Bruce sighed, shaking his head. "I'll get some pillows for the couch."

"Thank you."

He went back into the room, taking his usual seat beside Tony.

"Glad you finally grew a pair," Tony said suddenly in the dark, startling him.

"What?"

"With Fury. Finally stood up to him. I feel like we need to put this in your baby book or something," he chuckled. Steve smiled, unable to help it.

"Go back to sleep," he said softly, kissing the back of his hand. Tony shut his eyes, soothed by his presence. He sighed when he felt his fingers in his hair, knowing Steve was doing it just to get him to go to sleep.

"We're gonna have to get me a new engagement ring," he whispered. Steve frowned.

"We'll find it. If I have to go-"

"You already did," he explained, eyes closed.

"What?"

"That silver rod in the brazier next to that table?" He ventured. Steve nodded. "The tip...they melted down my ring and burned me with it. So we'll have to get a new one." His tone was so casual about it, breezing over it as if he were simply talking about the weather. There was pain behind it though, enough pain to be crippling. Others wouldn't have noticed, would've missed the agonized inflections behind his collected words. He didn't. And it hurt.

Tony winced slightly when Steve's lips touched his, kissing back, both holding back tears for the sake of the other. "We will," Steve assured. "Soon as your better."

"We might wanna move the wedding back, too," he advised. "Pretty sure you don't want me limping the whole way. That and my face is all swollen, gross. No one wants that in a wedding photo, huh?"

"I'd love you anyway," Steve whispered. "It doesn't matter to me what you look like. I'll still love you." Tony smiled, laughing softly again.

"For the sake of the wedding _night_ it might be better if I'm not in an intense amount of pain or a drooling mess from painkillers," he said, sighing when Steve kissed him again, feeling giddy past the drug-induced numbness.

"If that's what you want we'll push it back," he nodded.

"Thank you," he sighed, leaning into his hand. "I'm gonna pass out again." Steve kissed him gently. "Oh, and what happened to my face?" He touched his chin where facial hair used to be. Steve smiled, kissing his recently shaved skin.

"You needed stitches," he said, grazing the bandage under his chin.

"They didn't have to shave _all_ of it," he whined, breath hitching in his chest. Steve kissed his forehead.

"I wanted to see what you looked like without it," he teased.

"Like a teenager that doesn't know what he's doing," he sighed.

Steve kissed him again, knowing Tony was deterring them from the situation, using all of this as a coping mechanism. He'd let him. Right now he'd allow it."Well we both know that's not true." Tony smirked, his bruised eyes and swollen nose aching when he did. "Go to sleep." The dark-haired genius shut his eyes, weary and tired of fighting it. "I love you." He smiled, wishing he could squeeze his hand.

"You too, babe."

Steve smoothed his hair until his breathing evened, keeping a hand on his face even after, tears in his eyes. "Stubborn son of a gun," he breathed. He bowed his head, resting it against the hand clasped over Tony's. "It's gonna be okay. I know you're scared. You won't ever say it, not for as long as you live, but I know you are. But I've got you. I love you so much and I'm right here, okay? I'll always be right here." He shut his eyes, kissing the back of his hand.

* * *

"One wrong move, brother, and I will be forced to harm you," Thor warned darkly. Loki sighed, rubbing wrists that hadn't been freed in decades.

"I have told you on multiple occasions, but I suppose getting information through that thick skull of yours takes time," he teased. "I have no interests in escaping Asgard or doing any sort of damage to your precious Earth. I'm going to do the job you've asked of me. That is all."

"Any mischief at all and-"

"Yes, yes, I've heard at least a dozen times already. I try anything and the banishment I will suffer will be far worse than your leisurely stay on Earth," he sighed, agitated.

"You call sending the Destroyer after me and my friends leisurely?" He said, trying not to return his brother's smile.

"Well it didn't _actually_ destroy you, did it?" He challenged, smirking, trying to get a smile from his brother. Like he used to. It almost worked.

"You endangered the lives of people I cared about. My friends," he said darkly. "Twice." Loki sighed, bowing his head, shaking it.

"I'm not here for forgiveness, anyway," he mumbled, looking around the dank, god-awful scenery this place offered. The sunlight was harsh, far too bright against the jagged rocks and ground. Desolate wasteland hardly occupied by the natives. "So many people to kill," Loki whispered, observing.

"TRESSPASSERS!" A voice boomed from the sky, harsh, shrill, piercing to the ear.

"We just want a word!" Loki called back, Thor searching wildly for the source. His brother glanced at him.

"You keep whipping your hair like that and you'll be recruited for a Midguardian hair commercial," he teased. Thor frowned, gripping Mjolnir tighter in his fist. "Put. It. Away," he hissed.

"YOU ARE PREPARED TO FIGHT, LAUFEYSON!" He paused, swallowing, jaw flexing before he spoke again.

"You must forgive my brother," he replied. "He's only prepared for the worst. But I don't want it to come to that! All I wish is to speak with you. It will only take a moment, and I promise we will be on our way with no harm to you or your people. Provided that we go unharmed as well."

There was a pause, Loki's voice ringing through the empty air.

"PROCEED."

They continued forward, looking around for any sort of trouble, the elder of the Asgardians willing to strike anything out of line, Loki included.

A rounded corner revealed the source of the voice.

It looked like a seven foot lizard, being the only human-esque comparison that Thor could think of.

The tail was thin, and wrapped around his feet, small horns sticking out from its brow and the crown of its head. Scales decorated its entire body, bluish green in color, it's eyes black, the corneas striking.

Loki bowed politely, smiling, applying charm he'd used for centuries now. "I just have a few questions," he said quietly. "I do apologize for the inconvenience. But it will only be for a moment."

The thing studied him, gauging his expression, a separate set of eyelids blinking sideways. So reptilian and human all at once. "What is it you require?"

"There were three of you that were sent to Earth," he said, as politely as possible. "I would like to know why."

"They were hired," it hissed. "They had a job to do stationed on Earth."

"Yes, I understand. However, instead of killing someone they merely tortured him."

"We are are capable of more than assassination," it snarled. Loki nodded.

"Is there any way to know who sent them?" He said.

"That information cannot be disclosed with anyone," it said. "I can tell you nothing."

"We have arrested them on Earth," he explained, growing more irritated as the moments passed. "What would you have us do with them? We would be more than happy to return them-"

"If they are returned here they will go back to their work!" It said, standing from its throne, which Thor now saw was made of bones from a multitude of species. "According to Midguardian law, they have committed and serious crime, have they not?"

"Yes."

"Then allow Midguardian justice on them," it clicked, glowering at them. "You are wasting my time. Do with them what you will. I feel nothing for them. More will hatch soon and they will be replaced."

"I see," Loki nodded, smiling again. "Thank you for your time, your majesty. Your audience has been much appreciated." They backed away, the younger smacking Thor's arm to reciprocate his bow, stepping away quickly once they'd turned around.

"So we accomplished nothing!" Thor spat.

"No," Loki sighed. "Now Captain Rogers can inflict whatever punishment he has in mind for them with a clean conscience. I pity them."

"Why?"

"Because there's nothing more terrifying than an angry American."

* * *

Tony was awake again the next morning, watching the news and scoffing at the CNN reporters bickering about his whereabouts.

"Mr. Stark _is_ well," Pepper said, looking utterly exhausted, surrounded by microphones and flashing cameras. "He's taking some time off from the public scene for awhile to work with the rest of the Avengers."

"What are they working on?" One called.

She smirked. "Now, if I told you that S.H.I.E.L.D would have to obliterate us all, wouldn't they?" She joked. "Ladies and gentleman, despite what Youtube may say, Mr. Stark is entitled to some privacy. Have a good afternoon." She stepped away, leaving the reporters still barking questions and grappling amongst themselves.

He sighed, shaking his head as he clicked it off, rubbing his temples.

"You should really stop listening to that garbage," Steve said softly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He got up from the couch, sitting back in his usual chair. "It only ticks you off." He shrugged.

"I need to know what's going on with my company. Full-time superhero or not, it's got my name on it," he said matter-of-factly.

"You _need_ to worry more about getting better," he advised, placing his hand over his. "Then you can get as angry with rumors as you want."

"You know what would make me feel better?" He sighed, looking at him, smiling softly. The captain shook his head. "If you could sit up here next to me."

"Tony-"

"I don't give a damn about the monitors or the chords," he shook his head, tone light. "I want my fiancee to sit by me." Steve looked at him, in those big brown eyes with a popped blood vessel decorating each, thumbing his cheek and cradling his face.

_Of course I'll hold you,_ he thought sadly, kissing him carefully. "The second I hurt you..." He warned. Tony nodded, smiling.

"Okay."

Steve maneuvered his way into the bed with him, wrapping his arm around him and cuddling him close.

Tony sighed, leaning against his chest, the pain melting away far better and much faster than the medication being pumped into his arm. He buried his face in his shirt, breathing in the soft scent of his detergent and deodorant. So warm and soft. Steve kissed his head, petting his hair.

The blond looked down at him, watching the reactor glow through the thin fabric of the gown, his body so bandaged and patched together. His broken nose, his black eyes, his shattered fingers...Bruce was right.

_How is he alive? How did he push through all of that pain, those hours, weeks of agony and keep going?_

"Tony?" He looked up at him. "The reactor...how deep does it go inside you?"

"'Bout six inches," he whispered, looking away. "Why?"

"I was just wondering. I never asked..." He frowned, thinking for a moment."If I hug you too hard...does...does it hurt?"

Tony shut his eyes, leaning against him. "It hurts all the time. Twenty-four seven. You just get numb after awhile." Steve shook his head, kissing Tony's hair, tears in his eyes.

"Why don't you tell me-"

"Because there's nothing you can do about it, okay?" He snapped weakly. Steve lifted his chin, the tears back again, sniffing.

"I love you," he breathed. Tony frowned, leaning up to kiss him gingerly.

"I love you too. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

Steve wrapped his arms around him, shaking his head, swallowing hard. "You want to see if there's a movie on I haven't seen?" He said, tone light, smiling. Tony smiled back, far too good at playing pretend.

"You mean every movie ever made?" He croaked, his sore throat getting the better of him for the moment. Steve chuckled, kissing his hair again. Tony smiled again. "Sounds good."


	4. Chapter 4

**-SPOILER ALERT: **A person in this chapter may/may not have to do with the upcoming Marvel movies!-

**A Hero's Savior**

Steve staggered out of the room, worn out by rage and released tears. His hands were covered in the black goo that was those creatures blood, leaning against the wall and breathing raggedly.

"_Such a lovely body for a human. So soft and vulnerable. So easy to find those sensitive spots to make him cry, wasn't it?" _

He felt no remorse for what he'd done. Not a shred. He knew it had ultimately done nothing to them. They didn't feel punished or afraid of anything. But he felt better.

"_It's a wonder how weak he is without that mask to protect him. Screamed and shrieked for his captain morning, noon and night. 'Help me, Steve.' 'Don't let them hurt me, Steve.' 'Steve, please make the pain go away.' Steve, Steve, Steve!" _

He shut his eyes, tears and sweat coating his face with a bit of his own blood trickling from the corner of his mouth where one had struck him.

"_I want to know why. Why did you do it? You could have just killed him, why did you do this to him?" _

"_Because it was fun."_

Feeling bones crush under his hands, listening to them screech in pain. Just as Tony had been in pain.

"_I __**really **__don't like bullies."_

They weren't dead. He wasn't about to let them get off that easily. He'd gone in there as soon as Thor and Loki returned with the news.

"And he said to do whatever we want with them?" Director Fury asked. Loki nodded in sync with his brother.

"They don't seem to matter to him. Patriotism and family isn't exactly that race's forte," Loki explained, speaking quietly and not making eye contact with anyone.

Steve was staring at Fury, waiting for some sort of signal or sign to go ahead. One nod was all it took to get him storming down here and barking at Bruce to keep an eye on Tony. He'd be through before he woke up.

He allowed a few sobs to escape, shutting his eyes and locking them away after that, the wall supporting him as he slowly fell down to the floor, so overwhelmed and confused.

He didn't fight it when he felt hands on his forearms, carefully standing him up. He didn't fight when those hands took him into the nearest bathroom and cleaned off the blood and sweat. He changed his shirt and allowed this person to right his hair, still in a sort of catatonic state. "Thank you," he said, habit mainly.

"He's gonna be okay, Captain Rogers," Steve finally looked up to see his caretaker.

"I don't know," he whispered. "I don't know about any of this. I just...I just want him safe, Agent Coulson."

"I told you you could call me Phil," he assured. "He's as safe as possible. He'll get to go home soon, start physical therapy. You'll take care of him. I know you will." Steve looked at him through a weary haze, clapping his shoulder, no ease in his eyes as he turned to leave.

"Thank you," he said softly. Phil nodded.

"Any time."

* * *

"_Snips, snails and puppy dog tails, let's see what Tony Stark is made of!" The clawed hand ripped into his chest, tearing through muscle, cartilage and bone, spraying blood and bits of skin everywhere. He screamed and shrieked, arms tied above his head under that harsh light, biting down on the piece of wood in his mouth so hard he was breaking teeth. Red and bone-chilling pain was all he knew, screaming and crying and begging._

"_STOP, PLEASE STOP! NOOOOO!" _

_The man smiled at him, human and inhuman all at once, his still beating heart in his hand. "No heart for you." _

"_PLEASE! PLEASE, NO! NO!" A hooded figure approached, a metal cylinder with an familiar glowing light in his hands. "NO, NOT THAT, PLEASE NOT THAT. PLEHEASE!" The man shoved it into his chest, slicing through anything the monster had missed, not stopping until the metal clacked against his spine. _

_The hood fell back_

_And he looked into his own eyes. "Freak." It said. _

"_Monster." Another voice, a voice he loved coming out of the darkness to see the naked, bloody, dripping mess of flesh and machine he was made of. "Who could ever love something like you? Who could ever want _**this**_?" Steve shoved the device, pushing it deeper. He sobbed hard, agony inside and out. _

"_Please, Steve, please, no. Get out, get out before they hurt you too! Please!" Crying, sobbing, begging, his whole body feeling like a struck nerve. _

"_I want them to make you hurt. Get rid of needy, possessive, pathetic Tony so I can be free again. Toss you in a dirt hole and leave you behind me the way I had to leave everything else. I'm gonna let them kill you." _

"_STEEVEE!"_

"Tony, wake up!"

He gasped, eyes snapping open to meet baby blues that usually put him at ease. The disgust and loathing wasn't there anymore. Just concern and, dare he admit it, love. He covered the reactor glowing through his shirt, crying without realizing it. "Shh, hey, hey, it's alright. It's okay. Shh...I'm here," Steve soothed, tone gentle. He stroked his cheek and his hair back. "Shh, I'm here. I'm here, it's okay. It's okay, Tony. Shh..."

"I hate this thing, I hate it," he spat, sobbing hard, striking the reactor weakly with his fist.

"Stop, hey, look at me," he held his wrists, knowing he was hurting himself. He cradled his cheek. "It was just a dream. There's nothing wrong with this." He carefully touched his chest, smiling softly at him. "It's part of you, There's nothing wrong with it."

He shook his head, more vulnerable than Steve had ever seen him. "I'm a freak."

"Hey, don't do that." He wrapped his arms around him. "It's keeping you alive. And honestly, I don't notice it half the time. I barely remember it's there."

"I'm a fucking glow-stick," he spat, self-loathing dripping from his words.

Steve rested his head against his chest as gingerly as he could manage, still holding him. He kissed through the cloth, sitting back up to meet his lips. "I think you're beautiful," he said softly. "I always have. This is wonderful. It's amazing that you could make something like this to keep you alive."

"Steve, there's a big gaping _hole _in my chest. _Bones_ are supposed to be there. This carves through me, and you think it's a good thing? How could anyone not be disgusted with me?" He asked, staring up at him, tears swallowed and shoved back again, still apparent in his voice.

"I don't look at it like that," he said softly. "I think it proves that your heart's so big it glows."

"No," he retorted immediately. He shook his head, eyes watering again. "No, you're wrong. You couldn't be more wrong about that. I'm a selfish show-off, remember? You know men that are worth ten of me, remember? I'm nothing. I'm no one. I'm a science experiment that just so happened to work. I need to be in a museum or-or studied somewhere. I'm an abomination that needs to be shoved in the corner."

"Then so am I," Steve whispered. "And if we're both there together, then I guess there's no point being alone, is there?"

Tony fell back against his pillow, turning away as a few tears he hoped Steve couldn't see trekked down his face. The soldier kissed the back of his hand, sitting next to him on the bed. He pressed his lips to his forehead, carding his fingers through his hair to soothe him.

"I love you, Tony," he breathed, kissing him again.

"You deserve better."

"You deserve to be happy," he countered. "Get some sleep, baby. Bruce'll kill me if you get too worked up." Tony gave no more reply than the slow nod of his head, eyes falling shut. Steve kept his eyes on him, pecking his forehead, sighing softly.

_God, loving him hurts._

* * *

"Tony, are you sure about this?"

"You give the un-sexiest sponge baths ever, I need to get the hell out of here," he smirked, perching himself on the edge of the wheelchair. "I just wanna walk. God knows I'm not using this thing."

"Just be careful," Steve sighed, exasperated, standing behind to him, ready to catch him if necessary.

"I'm always careful."

* * *

"We'll be landing soon," Natasha said, stepping up to Clint and Thor, who were standing outside the cells. "Fury said to go ahead and get them ready."

"What's left of 'em," Clint chuckled, ribbing Thor, who smiled back.

"I knew Captain Rogers would make quick work of their evil doings," he said, triumphantly. He turned with Clint into the cells, grabbing three sets of cuffs as they went. The creatures stood obediently when they were asked, turning around and allowing their hands to be bound.

The oldest of the three grinned when he faced the two Avengers, chuckling to himself.

"Something funny, pal?" Clint asked darkly. The creature ignored him, turning to Thor.

"Time to find out what we've been waiting for, Odinson."

* * *

"Tony-"

"I can do it!" Sweat beat down his face, but he fought it, holding onto the bars he was standing between as tightly as he could. "I've been walking for forty years, I'm not gonna stop now.

"If you push too hard you're gonna hurt yourself all over again."

"One more step," he pleaded, voice soft. Steve put a hand on his back, nodding.

"Alright, alright, come on, one more. You can do it, one more," he goaded, taking his hand away. "One more, I know you can do it." Tony pushed, the muscles in his stomach and chest protesting, his arms and shoulders screaming at him to stop. "As stubborn as you are you can push through this."

He grunted when his right foot hit the floor, growling through the rest of the ripping pain tearing through his body to finish the step. He looked up at his fiancee, smiling through pain and sweat. "This is gonna kill me."

"Don't talk like that," Steve said, touching his cheek, the other hand holding the small of his back to support him. He knew he wouldn't be back in that wheelchair or stay bedridden, now that he knew he could take a few steps at a time without collapsing. "Rest for a few minutes then we can go again. We'll land soon enough."

"Deal. Kiss for courage, Captain?" He smiled, batting his eyes. Steve laughed, shaking his head. "Oh come on, I spent time on that alliteration." Steve bent, kissing his still-healing lips.

* * *

Clint and Thor marched them down the hall, incredibly uneasy about the grins on their faces.

"What did it mean?" The assassin asked in a harsh whisper.

"I do not know, and if I did I certainly wouldn't be roaming the halls with them and waiting for this craft to land, would I?" He growled back. "Stand ahead of them, I'll bring up the rear."

He shook his head, leading them around another corner closer to the center of the aircraft.

Thor frowned when they stopped, shoving the younger brother's shoulder. "Keep moving."

The creatures looked up at the sky, grinning with their wide mouths and pointed teeth. "It's time."

* * *

"Oh god, I can come back," Bruce said from the doorway, shielding his eyes from the couple.

"I think at this point that'd break me in half," Tony giggled. Steve blushed.

"Didn't need to know that either," the doctor grimaced. "You're not in here ripping up your insides again, right?"

"I'm keeping an eye on him," Steve assured.

"Good," he nodded. "Okay, Tony, I'm still gonna have to monitor you at home, so no running off, alright?"

"Well there goes the romantic get-away plans," he smirked, sighing dramatically. Steve chuckled, kissing him again.

"Just make sure-"

There was a loud boom on the floor below them that shook the entire craft.

"What the hell was-?"

Then Tony was screaming, floored instantly. "TONY!" Steve dropped beside him, Bruce not far behind. "What happened, Tony, what's wrong?"

"Oh my god!"

Tony's reactor had gone black, like a drop of ink in a cup of water, swallowing up the blue and spreading through his body. "STEVE! HELP ME, PLEASE!" Black tears slid down his cheeks.

Another explosion.

They were falling out of the sky, alarms, screams and orders piercing the air over Tony's screams.

Bruce's heart was thundering hard, too hard, too fast. His pupils dilated, slowly being pushed down so the Other Guy could take over. "Shit."

"Bruce..."

The roar drowned out Tony's screams altogether. Steve held him closer, watching what used to be Dr. Banner look around, gauging the situation. "HULK!" He barked, glaring at him. The monster turned. "He needs help, please!"

He slammed his fist through the wall in front of him, causing the other two to jump, the commotion incredible.

"Steve," Tony whimpered, fighting himself.

The creature before them slid something across the floor, stopping at Steve's knees. He looked at it, slowly picking it up.

It was a parachute.

Hulk moved again, tearing through the sheets of metal to the outside, the wind sucking in the smoke and flames from outside. "GO!"

As fast as he could manage, Steve tugged on the parachute, strapping it quickly, trying to soothe Tony's agony. "It's okay, it's alright, just hang on, just for a minute, shh..." He lifted him into his arms, peering hesitantly out of the hole before looking back to the Hulk. "Thank you."

He grunted as a response, barreling through the doorway to find the action below.

They rocked with yet another explosion, briefly teetering the captain and his injured love. Steve looked at their escape, took a few steps back...

And jumped.


	5. Chapter 5

******A Hero's Savior**

Tony was whimpering still, shaking and twitching in Steve's arms once they'd landed. The Captain carefully put him down, shushing him, frantic.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay Tony, shh, I've got you. Oh god..." He shed the parachute, kneeling beside him in the grass. "Okay, I'm gonna get you home, okay?"

He shook his head, speaking through gritted teeth. "No time," he swallowed, the thick, oil-like tears still trekking down his face, blood starting to join the mix. "Y-you have to do it."

"Tony, I don't know how, I don't know what to do!" He exclaimed, panicked, so afraid that he would hurt him. "What if I mess up? What if I do it wrong?" The billionaire shook his head, still trying to breathe.

"I-I'll tell you-" He broke off, screaming and arching off the ground, pain ripping through him. "STEVE, PLEASE!"

"What do I do? WHAT DO YOU NEED ME TO DO?" He bellowed, hands shaking.

"T-take it out. Take th-the reactor out," he begged. Steve nodded, swallowing hard, ripping his shirt open. "Y-you've seen me-" His breath hitched. "t-take it out b-before?"

"Yeah, yes, I can get it."

He twisted it carefully, wincing when Tony whimpered, the skin surrounding it a webbed network of black beneath his skin. The bottom of the reactor dripped with the substance, stinging his fingers, bubbling like acid. "Tony, oh god..."

"L-let me see," he breathed, voice weary. He showed it to him, trying to catch the goo, apologizing when he couldn't and Tony hissed in more pain. He stared at it as best as he could, breath shallow."Oh-okay, Steve y-you see that _chord!_ Ah...th-that big one?"

"Yes," he stammered.

"P-pull it out. Just yank it out."

"Tony-"

"DO IT!"

Still trembling, Steve carefully wrapped his hand around the chord, giving a hard tug, feeling the plug give. Tony cried out, hissing through his teeth, trying to breathe. "Let me see, l-let me..." He was breathless, shuddering. Steve turned it toward him, wincing when Tony coughed, blood and that same black spraying his lips. He looked into it, trying to breath.

"Are you okay?" Steve breathed, trying to keep it together, trembling.

"C-cardiac arrest," he hiccuped. "I-in there, inside, there's- th-that black thing, get i-it out!"

Steve looked inside the plug, trying to hurry, trying not to focus on the fact that Tony was _dying, _and ripped out what appeared to be an open pill capsule, tossing it away.

"Put it back, put it back, put it back!" He cried, gagging again, blood spilling past his lips again.

Steve shoved the plug back in, watching the black clear instantly. Tony gasped, taking deep breaths. He gagged again, painfully rolling on his side, retching the black mess into the grass. Steve held his shoulders, rubbing his back. "It's okay, it's okay." Tony shook his head before doing it again, sobbing between breaths. "What's wrong? What do I need to do? Tell me what to do, please!"

"S-something sh-sharp," he gagged. Steve took the knife from inside his boot, flicking it open. Tony offered him his arm, shaking, covered in sweat, the pain almost too much to take. "Across...cut across," he croaked. "M-make me bleed. G-get it out..."

Reluctantly, kissing his forehead, wiping his tears before holding his arm, cutting deep, loathing himself when he screamed. He bled black, the contents seeping from his arm rapidly, slowly turning redder as the moments progressed.

"Stop," Tony breathed, pale, weary. Steve quickly ripped the hem of the shirt he tore off of him, wrapping it around the wound, tying tight to stop the bleeding, holding him close.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. It's okay now. You're alright. Shh..." He rocked him, taking a few shaky breaths himself. "Are you okay now? I-is everything okay?"

"Home," he breathed.

"I-I really need to take you to the hospital," he stammered. "You need stitches, you need-"

"Please," he croaked, begging. Tony Stark was begging in his arms. "I-I can wait for Bruce. I'll be alright. Please, Steve..." How was he supposed to say no?

"Shh, okay, okay, I'll take you home." He carefully picked him up, hating himself when he whimpered softly, voice restrained. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it'll be over soon." Tony leaned into his chest as best as he could, shivering in the cool morning wind, remembering a time when he and Steve would be out for a run right now, or still in their room at the tower, lost in each other or sleep. Sleep... "No, no, Tony, wake up. Don't fall asleep, okay? I need you to stay awake for me, can you do that?"

"It hurts," he breathed, his voice softer than an echo. Steve winced, wishing to god he had the ability to take this agony away from him. He was so pale, so tired.

"I know," he said, swallowing, the adrenaline not yet worn off, his heart still thundering. _Get him home. Get him safe. _"It'll be okay soon. Just keep your eyes open for me." He thought for a moment, frantic, trying to keep him talking. "Hey, tell me how iTunes works again. I still get lost."

Tony sighed, even in the pain he was in, muttering through programming so simple for him, weak.

"It's okay, it's alright, shh...Shh...It's okay," Steve soothed as he walked, seeing the tower get closer, trying to remember where the hidden entrance was. "Terms and conditions, what's that?" Tony continued murmuring, head lolling against his chest, freezing, aching..

"Steve, I'm tired," he whispered. The captain nodded, finding the door hidden in the grass, yanking it open and entering his pin.

"I know, baby. I know, just a little while longer and you can go to sleep. I'll get you cleaned up, and-and warm and you can sleep all you want but right now you _have_ to stay awake for me," he begged, kissing his forehead.

"Why did they hurt me?" He whispered, shutting his eyes. "I didn't do anything wrong, I didn't do anything to them. Why did they have to touch me like that?"

"Shh...I don't know, baby. But they can't anymore. They can't touch you ever again." He kept making his way through the tunnel, hating himself for letting Tony shudder like this. "Almost there," he assured. "Almost there. You're doing so good, baby."

Finally an elevator. Finally some relief from the freezing air. Tony sighed, relieved, still breathing raggedly as he curled against Steve's chest. "Shh, I know. I know, we- God, Tony why didn't you let me take you to the hospital?" He asked, despaired.

"No more," was all Tony managed, eyes drooping again.

"No, no, no, come on, almost there," Steve urged, jostling him. "We're so close, baby, don't give up on me."

Tony forced his eyes to stay open, fighting the shadows at the edges of his vision threatening to drag him to unconsciousness, focusing on Steve's heart beat beside his ear and his voice rumbling in his chest when he spoke.

"Keep fighting, just keep fighting a little longer and then you can sleep, alright? I promise I'll let you sleep," he assured, kissing his temple.

The doors opened to his and Tony's floor, instantly sending the soldier walking as quickly -and carefully- as he could to the bedroom, slowly lowering Tony onto the covers. "Shh, shh," he combed his hair back, kissing his forehead. "JARVIS?" He said shakily.

"Yes, sir?"

"Is, is there a way for you to monitor his vitals until Bru- Dr. Banner gets here?" He asked, breathless.

"Yes, Mr. Rogers, if you could turn on Mr. Stark's watch-"

"I don't know how to do that!" He spat, frustrated tears in his eyes. The computer continued to speak, a soothing patience in his automated voice.

"There are three buttons above the face."

"Yeah, I see 'em," Steve said, gently holding Tony's wrist.

"The blue one on the right activates my program. Could you push it, please?"

Steve pressed the button, watching the clock's face illuminate with JARVIS' logo. "Is-is he alright?"

"He needs medical attention but for the time being he is alright. His blood-pressure is low and his heart-rate is yet to be desired but as I said: for now he is alright," the voice assured. Steve sighed, a weight being lifted from him, stroking Tony's cheek.

"Thank you."

"No problem, sir."

The captain stood, quickly going to their bathroom and wetting a washcloth and bandages, getting a pair of sweats and one of his own T-shirts from the dresser before returning.

Tony's breath was shallow, eyes closed against the pain, wanting to call out when Steve left his side, too weak to make an attempt. He gasped softly when a rag touched his cheek, taking the blood and other substance from his face and lips, moving to his recently injured arm as well. The rag was sticky with already-drying blood, the wound deep but at least it had stopped bleeding. He pressed the rag to it, wincing when Tony hissed.  
"I know, I know, it's okay. It's okay. Shh...almost done, almost done." He wrapped his arm, still shushing him softly, keeping his mind focused on the task at hand rather than the state Tony was in. It was difficult, seeing as the bruises now surrounding his reactor were his fault.

The bruises on his ribs were still deep, his fingers still healing, everything really. He had just started to get his strength back when this happened.

He whimpered softly when Steve started to take off his pants, eyes shut tight.

Steve looked up, heart clenching. "Shh, hey, hey, it's alright. It's just me, baby. I won't hurt you," he assured, kissing his forehead. "It's okay, it's okay..." He quickly took them away, seeing the tip of a large, stitched cut that stretched from his hip to the inside of his groin to his leg. The sight made his chest tight. "Shh..." He carefully pulled the sweatpants on, glancing at the other claw marks on his waist as he did so, wishing his touch could make them go away.

"Steve," he whispered harshly. "Will you hold me? Please?" The captain gathered him in his arms again as gently as he could, kissing his hair, shaking a little, the panic finally starting to seep through the cracks. "Can I sleep now?" Tony's eyes were so naked, so vulnerable.

"Yes, of course you can. You go to sleep, baby. It's alright," he assured, voice trembling, rocking him, almost frantic. "Shh...Sleep, baby. Go to sleep, it's alright. Shh..."

It didn't take much, seconds at best for Tony's eyes to drift shut and stay that way, finally allowing his body to give into the exhaustion, so unbearably weary. Steve shut his eyes, letting tears slide down his cheeks, allowing weakness when no one could see as usual, fighting sobs. This was worse than any war he could've imagined.


	6. Chapter 6

**A Hero's Savior**

Thor grabbed Clint immediately and launched them down an adjoining hallway when the creature spoke, the explosion that would've ended the young assassin's life happening seconds later, another blow rocking the engines echoing it.

"What the hell?" Clint exclaimed, pushing himself up and away from the god.

"Loki," Thor growled.

A scream erupted somewhere above them, bloodcurdling, agonized. Clint grimaced. "Stark."

Thor's anger swelled, holding out his hand, waiting impatiently, only satisfied when Mjölnir burst violently through the wall and felt his fingers curl around the handle. The two rushed to the scene, staggering because of the craft's tilt, finding a gaping, ragged hole in what used to be the outer wall.

The only creature left was the girl, bleeding to death, bleeding slowly, grinning and laughing shrilly. _"He told you our death was imminent!"_ She cackled, glowering at him. _"Do you see now, Odinson? DO YOU SEE?"_

"Thor," Clint said, warning in his tone as he reached behind him, retrieving and snapping his bow to life, eyes transfixed on the blood-spattered walls. "What's that?"

The god followed his gaze, seeing the spatters of blood starting to connect, becoming a translucent, eel-like creature. "Uh oh."

"'Uh oh'?" Clint repeated. "Sorry, but that's something I _really_ don't need to hear right now!" The one started to become many, hundreds, if not thousands joining together to make these things, all wriggling toward them. "What the hell do we do?"

"Start shooting," he nodded, shifting his grip on the hammer. "Strike true, Master Barton."

He pulled the loaded string back. "I don't miss."

* * *

Natasha had only just made it into the main deck when the explosions occurred. She heard Fury's cursing over the alarms, cracking like a whip through the dust, first, discovering second that she was on the floor from the jolt.

"What the hell was that?!" Fury demanded.

"Engine one is down, sir!"

"Critical damage from two sides of the craft-"

Another loud rip of metal, wires and steel groaned above their heads, Bruce- Hulk's roar echoing around them. "Uh…three sides." The thundering of Hulk's steps followed, everyone waiting, praying.

"Quit staring with your thumbs up your asses and get us further off shore. Get us as far out as you can and stabilize this damn thing!"

Natasha watched the S.H.I.E.L.D. members scatter, yelling and demanding, creating a ballet of chaos.

She looked across the room, seeing a man she and once –and truthfully still did- regarded as an enemy heading for the door, to the rest of the ship. She shoved her fear of Clint's safely to the back of her mind, rushing to him, heading him off.

"Hey!" She barked, catching him off guard and tossing him against the wall, shoving her arm against his throat, pinning him there. "What did you do?" She demanded. He shook his head, no fight, no defense in his stature, expression or tone.

"I have done nothing," he said quietly. "What motives would I have? I have just been accepted into my brother's presence again without that muzzle or other means of restraint. Why would I spoil that?"

"You hate Thor and you feed off of chaos," she snarled, glowering at him. He laughed softly, ruefully.

"I do not hate my brother," he said earnestly. "I am through fighting you, whether you accept that or not." He stared at her, eyes so green, though she distinctly remembered them being blue when she had seen him last, finding them tired and aged. Defeated. "They need our help. Thor can only fight so many of them at once." She released him, guilty for reasons she wasn't sure of.

"'Them'? What are they?" She asked. He absently massaged his throat from the sting she'd left.

"Irksome."

* * *

"Son of a bitch!" Clint bellowed over the shrieks of these creatures and Hulk's roars of frustration. "What the hell are these?"

Thor crushed the head of one he caught in his fist, dropping the body in disgust. "Irksome." Arrows, fists, and Mjölnir hurled through the air, the mess so large and so _much_ it was nearly impossible to keep track of things, so much that Clint nearly show Natasha and Hulk grabbed Loki by the neck.

"Whoa!" She said, putting her hands up. He shifted aim immediately. "What are these things?!"

"I don't know! Just shoot the damn things!"

Hulk's eyes were locked with younger Asgardian's, his hand still wrapped around his throat, stifling his breath but not choking him entirely.

_**Bad, **_he thought. _**Bad like these. Bad before these were. Enemy.**_

_Let him go,_ Bruce scolded. _There's bigger issues here than him and you need to get out of here as quickly as you can so I can find Tony. Tony believes in us remember? Let him go._

_**Let.**_

_Go._

Loki fell, coughing, chucking a blade from inside his coat, catching an ell mid-air as it dove for Hulk's arm. They shared a nod, understanding, accepting, even trusting. Maybe.

He continued throwing, continued fighting until he and his brother ran into each other, back to back.

"Brother," Loki said, still circling, watching the continuous, never-ending horde of these creatures creep toward them. "Father gave that thing to you for a reason. You're Odin's son in the Midguardian realm. Prove it." Though he couldn't see them, he knew the look in Loki's eyes, the goading to make him think, to force him to understand. Challenge him.

His brother.

He focused on the hammer, the skies outside darkening, a storm brewing in the clouds. Loki took slow, deep breaths, watching blue start at his fingertips and slowly spreading to the rest of him.

Lightning entered the walls, using the hammer as a focal point, striking out in bolts at these creatures, paralyzing and injuring them, circling rapidly while Loki followed with a sheet of ice, killing them, killing the cells of such simple creatures in, listening to the shrieking as they died, the shell of the female creature now hollowed and totally dead.

When everything stopped the tips of Natasha and Clint's hair were iced over, which kept it from standing on end, an eerie calm settling over everything.

Bruce reached for the remaining fabric of what used to be a blanket in a nearby closet, wrapping it around his waist, shivering.

Thor laughed victoriously, clapping Loki on the shoulder as the Jouten-blue faded away, his eyes the last to return. He grinned, basking in his brother's happiness, something swelling inside him as their eyes met.

Belonging.

Family.

Thor cupped the back of his neck, jostling him playfully. "I have missed this." The younger smiled, eyes pained, heart aching slightly.

"As have I…brother."

For the first time in what seemed like centuries, Thor hugged him.

* * *

Steve still hadn't stopped crying when Bruce came into the room, rushing, worn out from fighting.

"Oh god," he breathed, seeing how pale Tony was, how used and beaten he looked even in sleep.

And Steve's eyes. Steve's _eyes_ that looked so very old and young all at once. He stared at the doctor, lost, worried, shattered.

"Bruce, please."

"What happened?"

Brokenly, the Captain explained what had happened: tearing out Tony's reactor, the blood, the black, the bruising, getting him here and finally trusting JARVIS enough to relax slightly. But only just.

"It's okay now," he said gently, easing Tony from his arms and onto the bed. "I'll fix him up, don't worry. He'll be alright, Steve. Just give me some time to work."

He stood slowly, stroking his hair back, the swollen lump in his throat making it increasingly hard to breathe. He shuffled to the elevator, staggering inside, meeting Natasha's eyes when he did.

"How is he?" She asked.

He collapsed against her, wrapping his arms around her because damn it, he was just too weak to do it anymore. Too tired and worn and beaten to keep it in. Somehow she supported him, rubbing his back though affection was almost alien to her. He sobbed aloud, harsh, broken, horrible sounds coming from his throat as he did.

"What if he dies? What if he dies? What if he dies?" He said it over and over again, so afraid. "God, if he goes let me go too."

"He'll be okay," she nodded, slightly lost and taken aback by his behavior. "Bruce is here, he won't let him go. He'll be just fine."

It was difficult, even with her extreme level of logic, to imagine a world without Tony Stark. How big the funeral would be and how utterly broken Steve would be. Shattered, crushed and defeated, something he may never recover from. She wondered how long he could last with that level of agony, and if a super-solider could die of a broken heart.

She wasn't telling him he would be alright because it was what she believed. She told him because she herself couldn't fathom what might be.

The Captain's knees buckled, his weakened state and trauma from previous events leaving his body worn. She sunk to the floor with him, smoothing his hair, mimicking what she'd seen on television. She shut her eyes, hating herself for thinking what she was,

_Love is for children._

* * *

Tony woke slowly, the pain hitting him hard when he did. He groaned softly, shivering in spite of the heat in his face. Fever again. Pain again. One step forward and two steps back again. He took a slow, shaky breath, eyes focusing enough to see his friend through the haze. "Bruce," he managed, throat searing.

"Hey," the doctor said gently, still checking the half-a-dozen monitors hooked up to him and jotting down notes. "You're a lucky son of a bitch, you know that?"

He chuckled softly. "Doesn't feel like it at the moment."

"You should be dead, you know," he nodded, smiling in awe. He swallowed, searching the bedroom again.

"Where's Steve?" He whispered, need in his eyes. Bruce turned slightly, revealing the Captain sound asleep on the couch, his eyes still swollen from his previous tears. "I scared him," he breathed, guilty.

"Yeah, you did," he agreed. "But it's not your fault. It isn't anyone's fault." He patted his shoulder, wincing when he coughed.

"What…what was inside me?" He whispered, shuddering softly. He shook his head, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Don't worry about it. It's out now, you're alright and that's all that matters," he assured. He stood, stepping away from him and giving soldier a light shake, waking him gently.

"Wh-what's wrong?" Steve said, waking immediately, eyes wide and fearful.

"Nothing, nothing, calm down, he's alright," Bruce nodded, still speaking gently. "He's awake. I just wanted to let you know. That's all."

He left almost silently, leaving the couple alone, Tony staring up at the ceiling, trying to breathe through the wave of pain before the medicine kicked in, Steve summoning his courage to try and face him without bursting into tears again.

"Don't make me come get you," Tony said hoarsely, coughing softly, smirking. Steve sat on the bed beside him, swallowing the tears in his eyes.

"Hey, babe," he whispered, gently taking his hand.

"I'm so sorry," Tony croaked, meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry I scared you. I shouldn't have put you through that."

"If you hadn't you…you'd be dead," he managed, a stone lodged in his throat. "I did what I had to do. That's what soldiers do."

Tony shook his head, shutting his eyes as if wincing. "You…that wasn't a war, Steve. That wasn't a battlefield you needed to be brave for. That was you and I in a field."

"You needed me."

"I always need you. But I made you do something you shouldn't-" He broke off into a wheezing cough, the bruises on his chest throbbing, every broken bone and pulled muscle screeching. Steve held his face, rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder, waiting for it to pass.

"Shh, it's okay. It's alright. Shh…"

"S-Steve," he whispered, staring at him with those vulnerable eyes he'd had in that clearing when he asked him to basically rip out his heart, eyes he'd had that first time he told him he loved him, the first time he'd kissed him, when he told him he had feelings for him in the first place. And what he truly understood was this was only temporary. This would go away soon and Tony would clam up and not speak about it –and not want to talk about it- ever again. "C-could you hold me again? Please? I keep having these dreams and…"

He stood immediately, going to the other side of the bed and getting in beside him, pulling him into his arms around the tubes and chords. "I've got you. I'm here. They're dead now, Tony. Completely gone. They can't ever hurt you again."

"Who-who sent them?" He rasped.

"Does it matter?" He asked, closing his eyes, pained. "What matters is you're here. You're safe and right here with me and I don't have to be so scared of losing you anymore so _please_, please just…just let me kiss you." It was chaste, gentle, much like the captain himself, so loving and warm with no other motives behind it, no desperation or fear because it wasn't what he needed. He needed to know he was safe and loved as usual.

Tony huddled into his warmth, letting his face fall into his neck when it was done, pushing the thoughts of pain and claws out of his head and trying to focus on how soft and beautiful Steve felt. "Please don't cry anymore," he breathed, surprising him.

"What?"

"Your eyes are swollen and bluer than usual. You've been crying so please…_please_ don't cry anymore," he begged, eyes closed. "That's an order, soldier."

Steve smiled in spite of himself, looking at his fiancée, ignoring the ragged beating of his heart. "Yes, sir."


	7. Chapter 7

**-Also a very, very brutal chapter. TW: Sexual assault-**

**A Hero's Savior**

It didn't take much to hold him still. He was already so weak and wounded, the gag in his mouth drenched in blood. He whimpered when he was moved away from the wall, fighting weakly, shutting his eyes when he laughed.

"So soft, aren't they?" The eldest hissed, his eerie human, yet so inhuman face sending chills to the pit of his stomach. He touched his chest, tracing the reactor with one long fingernail, grinning when he cried out as he nicked his skin.

"Don't, don't, please…"

"Aw, isn't he sweet?" The brother chortled. "Pretty for a sack of flesh.

"He is, isn't he?" The woman grinned, touching his chin, forcing him to look at her as she tore the gag from his mouth. "Not as pretty as your captain, but I think we'll have him some other time."

He shook his head, tears in his eyes. "No," he whimpered. "Not Steve, please."

"He doesn't want you," the younger growled, tongue snaking to his neck as he circled him. "Don't you think he would have found you by now if he wanted you? You are broken, Tony Stark."

"Far before we found you."

Tony tried to shrink into himself, trying to look away from the creatures surrounding him, the oldest of them now positioned behind him, their hands placing unwanted caresses on his skin that made him tremble. "Please…"

"Unloved, unwanted. You've got so much baggage, Tony. Why would someone as handsome and pure as Steve Rogers want anything to do with a thing like you?" He felt the figure behind him changing, the hands, the height…the voice. "Why would _I _want _you_?"

"No," he breathed, the sound choking off into a sob as he closed his eyes. "Don't…leave him alone…please."

"You don't want me?" The false Steve whispered, kissing his cheek. "You don't want me to save you?"

"I do," he moaned, trying to lock his sobs away. He knew it wasn't real, but damn it, it was real enough. "Please."

"Shh," he hissed, kissing his neck. "I don't want to save you. I'm not going to save ou." He shut his eyes, feeling Steve's fingers strok his hair back. Tender. Gentle.

"Why?" He whimpered, leaning into his warmth. "Wh-what did I do wrong?"

"So needy, so pathetic. Always pathetic. You may be worth billions of dollars, Tony but here," he put his hand on his chest, "and what's up here," he kissed his temple, "is worthless. You're worthless, Tony. And you know that. Don't you?" He spoke so gently.

He nodded helplessly, tears trekking down his cheeks. "That's right," he turned his chin, kissing his lips. "Good boy." He stayed behind him, cradling him close, kissing his temples from time to time. "You want to know what I _do_ want?" He nodded, heart in pieces.

The monster grinned, taking the tenderness from his touch, reaching around to take the human's most private area in his hand, lightly kneading the flesh. Tony gave a harsh dry sob, immediately trying to worm away, startled. "No, please!"

"Hey, hey!" He barked, holding him fast. His tone softened as he spoke again. "I thought you wanted to give me what I wanted. Don't you love me?"

"Yes," he gulped. "Yes, I love you. I love you so much."

"Then don't you think I deserve access to your body for what you've put me through?" He said gently. He nodded brokenly.

"S-Steve, please," he cried, shaking , extraordinary pain wracking his body. "Please, it hurts. I-I just want to go home. Y-you can do whatever you want to me there, you can touch me however you want, please. Please."

"I will not save you, Tony. I don't care if you live or die. But I want you. I want this." His fingers slid back, snaking through the crevice of his backside, grinning when he cried out again. He wrapped his hand a little more firmly around his penis, pumping slowly. "Don't pretend you don't want e."

"N-no, please," he sobbed, mind torn, body responding inappropriately no matter what he willed. "Steve, please, I-I just want you to hold me. That's all I want." He grinned wickedly, squeezing, causing his breath to hitch.

"When will you learn you aren't going to get what you want?" He whispered. "You take what I give you." He bowed his head, trembling, trying so hard not to cry.

"Please," he whimpered, "gently."

The monster grinned. "No promises. Have at him."

The agony was different now.

"No, no, please, _please_!" "

"Steve, don't let her do this, please."

"Oh GOD PLEASE!"

"No, no, please, that'll hurt. It'll hurt, Steve, no. Nononono, please. No- _AAAHHHH!" _

"Please, please, I'm bleeding, please."

A hand slipped, slicing up his leg and his groin, stopping just where the waistband of his underwear would rest.

He sobbed and screamed, turning his head toward the monster that was ripping him apart, somehow able to find comfort in a kiss through his haze of anguish. And it kissed back, soft and tender in its lips, body relentless and without mercy.

Torture in its purest form.

"No more, no more, no more. I can't, please. Steve…"

When it was over, finally over and they were satisfied with what they'd left hanging from the barbs the faux-Steve changed into his original appearance, still slightly human, licking his lips. "Always a pleasure, Mr. Stark."

They left him in the darkness, trembling and sobbing for his real captain, the one that might not think him so useless and leave him for dead. The one that might just take him away and hold him without wanting something else. The claw marks on his hips burned terribly, the large gash still dripping with other fluids that weren't his own.

And still one hundred and fifty-six hours before his salvation.

* * *

Tony woke with a sharp gasp, tears on his cheeks, monitor beeping rapidly behind him. It slowly crawled to a normal rate, but that didn't stop his trembling. He curled into Steve's arms, his Steve that loved him and would never, _ever_ know about his nightmare, about what they had done to him. How they had touched him.

The blond stirred, eyes cracking open briefly, sensing his distress. "Shh…" He soothed, stroking his hair. "I got you. I got you, I'm here. Shh…go back to sleep, sweetheart."

"Kiss me?" Tony whimpered, the only sound he could manage at this point. Steve obliged, groggy and worried, pecking his lips. Tony shook his head, needing more. "_Kiss me._" He kissed him again, deeper this time, tender and soft. Beautiful, sweet Steve.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, concerned. He didn't answer, only nuzzled closer and tried to block out the memories of claws and mouths and cackling. It took another minute for him to burst into sobs, clinging to his fiancee's shirt for dear life. "Hey, hey, Tony. Baby, what's wrong? Huh?" He urged, kissing his forehead. "Okay. Okay, it's okay. Let it out, baby. Shh…it's alright."

He stopped much too soon, clutching Steve's arm, scared. So, so scared.

But loved.

* * *

A/N: I apologize for the length. Will be longer next time. Thank you!


	8. Chapter 8

**A Hero's Savior**

It took almost no time at all for Tony to act as if absolutely nothing had happened to him. As soon as he could walk around without Steve or a cane's help it was business as usual; short, snarky remarks to anyone that asked about it. Or he ignored it entirely.

He had nightmares every night without fail. But if Steve asked if he was alright or even attempted to hold him he shrugged away and went to the lab for the rest of the night without saying a word.

Steve tried. He tried so hard to be there for him, to tell him it was okay to be scared and hurt. It's okay to cry. He hadn't cried since that first night. And it scared him. He'd never been so scared for him. He'd watched him bottle things up before but this…this was killing him much faster than the shrapnel in his chest ever would.

As of now he was sitting in the living room of the main floor, leaning forward on his knees, resting his chin on folded hands, brow clenched. The white noise of the football game Clint had on filtered through but didn't register. Nothing was. Even Bruce had to physically touch him before he heard him speaking. "What? Sorry?" He said, shaking his head.

"How long has he been down there?" He asked. Steve sighed, shutting his eyes.

"About a week," he sighed, rubbing his temples.

"He's stayed down there that long?" Clint asked, skeptical.

"Hasn't slept, hasn't ate, nothing," he growled. "I doubt he's even taken a break."

Bruce shook his head, bowing it. "Stubborn son of a bitch is going to kill himself." Steve shook his head, standing quickly and heading for the elevator.

"Not if I'm around," he grunted, jaw set. The doors closed, pulling him to the basement to Tony's workshop. He took a deep breath, prepared to drag him out of there kicking and screaming if necessary.

He immediately went to the keypad beside the door, punching in JARVIS' code, gaining access to the lab in an instant. Tony was at his desk, fiddling with the screen in front of him with tired, bloodshot eyes. He was weary, groggy and fighting his own physical and mental exhaustion with everything he had. He was trying to forget. Trying to forget how they hurt him, how they touched him, the levels of agony they forced him through for nothing. Literally for nothing.

"Tony," he said softly, coming up behind him. He didn't acknowledge him, still typing away in his invented language with JARVIS, trying not to fall over right there. "Tony?" He touched his shoulder, still getting no response from him. He sighed. "JARVIS."

"Yes, sir?"

"Save and shut down."

"Of course, sir. Authorization code?"

"Seven, four, 1922," he rattled. Tony still hadn't moved, hadn't even paid attention that he was there.

"Thank you, Mr. Rogers." The screens vanished instantly, the entire room going dim a moment later. Tony stopped, confused, finally swinging his head to look at him.

"Steve?"

"Come here." He turned his chair, scooping him into his arms, holding him like you would a child. "Just come here, baby."

"Steve," he whispered, head resting against his chest.

"No, hush," he warned, firm but gentle. "I've had to sleep without you every night for two weeks now, I won't do it again. You need a shower, you need food and you need sleep, and that's exactly what you're going to get, okay?" Tony sighed, too tired to fight, or form a coherent argument.

He muttered incoherently into his shirt, something about him being just fine and him being overbearing or overprotective.

"It's my job to be worried about you," he said firmly, gently rubbing his back. "God, why are you doing this to yourself?"

"Busy," he mumbled, somehow able to lie even when this exhausted.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he sighed. The elevator opened again, revealing their bedroom. He stepped into their bathroom, kissing the top of his head as he sat him down on the toilet, undressing himself before moving to his dazed fiancée.

"You're so beautiful," Tony babbled, kissing his neck as he took his shirt off.

"Good engineering," Steve stated, trying not to blush or smile when Tony nuzzled into his chest, lost in fatigue. "I didn't always look like this."

"You were adorable," he slurred. "Bet you were the sweetest thing. Scrawny, but sweet. Same smile, same heart, same Steve. Just shorter."

Steve was actually blushing now, helping Tony into the shower, holding him. He leaned against his chest again, sighing at the feel of his skin against his cheek. "You feel so much better than that thing did," he sighed.

Steve blanched, looking down at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"They were so rough. Not like you," he breathed. "You wouldn't hurt me, would you?"

"No," he assured, kissing his temple. "No, I'd never…what do you mean rough?"

He shook his head, kissing his chest, eyes still shut. "You wouldn't do that to me. You love me…Don't you?"

"Of course I do," he breathed, closing his eyes and holding him to him. "God, Tony, of course I love you."

"I love you," he whispered, speaking as if he didn't hear him. "You're too good for me. You're way too good for me. You should find someone…someone better. Someone not so damaged, or…or _me._"

He held his cheek, lifting his chin and kissing him. "I don't want someone else. I want the best. I want you. I'll only ever want you." He gently massaged soap into his hair, trying not to look into what he said and just be there.

"You want to tell me the real reason you were in there for a week?" He ventured, tilting his head so the soap would run out.

"Didn't want to sleep," he whispered.

"Why not?"

"Too hard," he whispered. "I…I don't want to. I don't want to."

"What if I stay with you?" He offered gently.

"You can't follow me in my head, you can't make that stop. You can't," he said, shaking his head. "I miss you, though."

"Then stay with me," he pleaded. "Stay and talk to me."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No. I…no." Steve sighed, kissing his forehead. "Come on."

He carefully pulled him out of the shower, toweling them both off and setting him on the bed, carefully putting clean clothes on him, looking at the scar on his leg, heart clenching.

Tony reached out, touching Steve's bare chest again, his other hand on his own, feeling the reactor with utter disgust. "Tell me honestly, does this thing ever bother you?"

"No," he said immediately. "It never has."

"I wish it would go away," he whispered. "I can't stand this thing."

"I know, baby," he whispered, kissing him again. "Don't think about that. Think about something happier."

"Like the wedding?" He offered. Steve smiled and nodded.

"Like the wedding. You wanted to move it up. When?"

"Today," he said firmly. "Let's get married today."

"No, not today," he smiled. "You're cute when you're tired."

"I'm always cute," he grumbled, leaning against him. He patted his cheek.

"Of course you are. Stay here, sweetheart."

He disappeared for a moment, leaving Tony to doze, staring off into space, the thoughts of sliding that ring on his finger, signifying he was his and no one else's. For forever. Forever his Steve. Even when he deserved absolutely nothing from him.

Steve came back with a warm mug of soup, carefully pushing it into his hand and guiding it to his lips. "Come on, drink up. You haven't eaten in God knows how long." He swallowed, taking slow sips, lulled by the warmth of the soup and the heat of the shower on his skin.

Steve waited until he was done before maneuvering him into bed, tucking the blankets around him.

"No, no," he whispered, shaking his head. "Steve, stay with me. Please. It's…it's hard enough with you here. I can't…"

"Shh, hey, it's alright." He got into the bed beside him, pulling him into an embrace. "This isn't gonna change anything, is it?"

"No," he said truthfully, leaning against him, eyes shut. Steve sighed.

"Damn it, Tony, why do you do this to yourself?" He spat, exasperated. Silence met him. "Tony?" He looked down at him, sighing. Fast asleep. He stroked his hair back, kissing his cheek, willing his nightmares away. "Just let him sleep," he prayed. "Please, just let him sleep. Give him that, please."

Steve woke the next morning alone.


	9. Chapter 9

**A Hero's Savior**

Silence.

They hadn't talked in days, not one word. Steve had made it a habit of spending his time in the lab, taking whatever books Tony told him he needed to read with him, only leaving to shower and eat before coming right back.

Tony worked on God knows what, listening to his loud music and muttering to JARVIS as he went. Steve didn't ask what he was working on, didn't say hi or goodnight. Not a word. His throat hurt when he _did_ speak to the other residents of the tower, but he was there.

He was there even if Tony didn't want him to be.

Every now and then Tony would walk behind him and run his hand absently across his shoulders as he passed; touch his arm, briefly squeeze his hand. Little things to acknowledge him, to show Steve that he knew he was there and no, it wasn't a fight. That's not what the silence was. It was the simple fact that neither of them knew what to say to the other. Nothing could help, nothing could make it go away. Every second was saved in his mind as if it were a hard-drive. Not one second could be deleted, combed over or diluted down to something bearable. Never.

And Steve knew that.

He was working on his bike while Tony was buried in the hood of one of his cars, still silent, the sound of clinking tools and JARVIS' occasional comments about what precisely was wrong with it the only interruptions. He paused, watching him for a moment, chest aching.

He stood, setting down the tools and wiping his hands on his already dirty jeans, catching his waist when he turned to him.

"Steve?" he breathed, his first word spoken in nearly a month. The captain gently held his chin, tilting his face to kiss him. His touch was deep, reaching all the way to the billionaire's heart and tugging gently. He was briefly overwhelmed, holding his arm to steady himself, shaking a little.

"Shh," he whispered, kissing him gently. "It's okay. It's just a kiss." Tony stared up at him, quiet, hands smeared with grease and hanging at his sides.

"What, what if I want more than that?" He breathed. Steve kissed him deeper, holding his cheeks and brushing his hair back.

"I'm here for whatever you need, babe," he whispered. Tony leaned up into his lips, wrapping his arms around his neck to kiss him more firmly.

"I need you," he whispered, kissing him over and over, smudging his white tee with more oil and dirt than it had originally, kissing him hard and deep, tangling his fingers in his hair. He'd been neglecting him for too long; been away from this intimacy with him for too long. He was so beautiful, so chiseled and gorgeous, sweet and gentle.

"I'm right here, sweetheart. Shh…" He soothed, pressing careful kisses to his cheeks and moving to his neck. Tony gasped softly, fingers digging into his shoulders, leaning into his mouth. He grunted when Steve lifted him up, knocking the hood shut with his elbow and setting him on top of it, still sucking what would be an impressive hickey on his neck.

"JARVIS," Tony breathed. "Save and close. And kill the lights."

"Very good, sir."

The lights dimmed, screens disappearing and music fading, leaving only their harsh gasps to echo through the lab. Tony wrapped his legs around his waist, still kissing him feverishly, drowning out bad memories. God he wished it wasn't so awful. He wished that feeling Steve touch him like this didn't make him want to hide somewhere no one could find him and never, ever come back out. He just wanted to be intimate with his fiancée, just one thing that usually brought him so much peace and opened his heart to so much.

That was ruined too.

"Tony?" Steve breathed, gaining his attention again. "We don't have to."

"I want to," he said immediately.

_Stop thinking about it. Just think about him, about Steve. Don't let anything else ruin this. _

Steve gingerly peeled Tony's shirt from his chest, kissing his neck, trying not to look at the bruises yet to heal on his skin, his movements still stiffer than usual. God, this was taking too long; couldn't he just stop being in pain? Why did this have to be prolonged like this?

"Don't," Tony breathed, looking away from him, reactor illuminating their faces. "Don't look at me, I…The scars…"

"Don't bother me," Steve finished, kissing him. "I just don't want you to be in pain anymore, baby. Do you know how much it kills me to see you like this?"

"I don't want to talk anymore," he whispered, shaking his head, sliding his hands inside his shirt, feeling his smooth, supple skin on his chest. He kneaded the flesh in his hands, causing Steve's thinking to falter, his eyes briefly fluttering closed.

"Tony, you haven't been talking for a month now," he said, mildly frustrated. Tony leaned against him, head against his chest. Steve looked down at him, at how small he managed to look right now.

"Wasn't really necessary for me to," he muttered. Steve scoffed.

"That little stunt you pulled with the fire truck last week, telling us about that wasn't necessary?"

"It did its job, didn't it?"

"You almost took Natasha's head off."

"But I didn't."

"Tony!" He held his face, lifting his chin. "Let me help you. Talk to me, let me in so I can _help you_ with this. Please, you're killing yourself." He looked back at him, expression blank.

"I'm fine," he finally said, moving to pull away from him. Steve held him still.

"You're not fine, you haven't been since it happened," he said gently. "Please, don't go. I miss you." Tony paused, not meeting his eyes, chest contracting at the need in his voice.

_Such a selfish bastard. God, why won't he wise up and leave me?_

He moved back to him, kissing his neck and working the shirt over his head. Steve sighed into his touch, leaning into him and hating himself for yet again letting Tony get away with ignoring his problem.

Maybe this would help.

Ho w they got into the backseat of this car was beyond him. Tony was above him now, completely naked and parting his legs. Steve allowed him to devour his mouth, allowed his wrists to be held above his head. He hissed at the force he was using to holding him down and the rough treatment his neck was receiving in the process.

"Ow, ow, Tony slow down," he whispered, muscles tensed and instinctually pulling away. He grunted, eyes shut against the pain still swelling on his skin beneath his nails and teeth. "Tony, please-" He slammed him down harder as a response, holding too tight, too hard, frightening him for a moment. "Ow, Tony! Hey!" He forced himself up, using strength he'd never used on him before to break the hold on his wrists. He caught his fiancée's back, keeping him still, keeping him close. "Tony, why are you being so rough with me? You're hurting me." He nodded to his abused chest, watching Tony's face.

His eyes widened, understanding what had happened. What he'd done. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "I'm so sorry." He tried to pull away, to get away from what was happening, what'd he'd done. Steve held him fast.

"No, Tony, look at me," he said gently, turning his chin. "What's going on with you, huh? Why were you acting like that?"

"Steve…" He looked away, chest aching so much. God, he'd hurt the angel that had saved him from so much. "Jesus, why won't you leave me?"

"What?" He blanched, appalled. "Leave you? Why on earth would I leave you?"

"I haven't spoken to you in over a month, I haven't slept with you since it happened, I've made comment after rude comment about you, about everything, I won't let you or anyone else help me and I know you're frustrated, I know you're tired of fighting with me so why don't you just leave?" He spoke quickly, never once meeting his eyes. Steve stared back, his hold on him faltering, hurt.

"Do…do you _want_ me to leave?" He breathed.

"No!" Tony said instantly, looking at him with bleary, worn eyes. "No, God, no I don't want you to leave. I could never want you to go I just…I just want you to do what's best for you instead of worrying about pathetic me."

Steve wrapped his arms around him, sighing, trying to squeeze the ache and the hurt out of him. "I'm supposed to worry about you. All I do is worry about you, baby. That's what I'm supposed to do. I love you."

Tony shook his head. "You shouldn't have to."

"Too bad." Steve kissed him gently, carding his fingers through his hair. Tony let out a sigh, succumbing to his touch, succumbing to _him_. His strong arms engulfed him, kissing him with tender lips. "Do you still…?" He nodded, locking his wrists around his neck, leaning into him.

"Yes, please."

He shut his eyes, leaning against him, feeling his soft, warm skin beneath his hands and lips. "I love you," he whispered. "And I'm sorry." Tony pecked his lips, looking at him, the reactor illuminating their faces.

"Don't," he whispered, shaking his head. "Don't."

They were kissing again, Tony trembling in his lap, forcing himself to submerge in Steve. The taste of him, the soft scent of his skin and his hard body that was so close to him.

"Tony?"

"Don't let me go," he breathed. "Please."

"I swear, I won't."

Kissing slow and deep, making love in the back seat of this car, closer to each other then they'd been in months.

But what broke Steve's heart was that absolutely nothing had changed.


	10. Chapter 10

**A Hero's Savoir **

Steve generally wasn't too worried about Tony actually going to one of Stark Industries galas. Here lately, however, he had to be worried about everything he did. Not tonight, though. Tonight was going to be special. He's been planning this for weeks and finally, finally it was the right moment to do it.

Tony had to go ahead of him about an hour before to see to a few last minute things Pepper needed, and Steve knew better than to show up on _time_. Tony told him a long time ago that the really important people, especially the fiancé of the guest of honor. So he took his time getting ready, straightening the collar of his dress uniform and trying to contain his giddiness. Too excited. He felt silly for it, but anticipating Tony's reaction and knowing how it would be worth the immense wait, and the feeling was almost intoxicating.

He met up with Bruce in the elevator, chuckling as he watched him fiddle with his tie.

"I don't know why Tony invited me to this thing," he muttered. "I don't do so well in crowds."

"You'll be fine. He knows that and I know that, so make sure the Other Guy knows that. Don't worry," he assured. "Besides, I need you there for moral support."

Bruce chuckled. "Captain America needs moral support. God help us."

"Well you can explain it better than I can," he offered. Bruce shrugged, giving him that one. "I mean, I thought everything still ran on electricity and pop music was about Pepsi until last year. So I think asking for that isn't too unreasonable."

"It's not, it's not, you win. I just hate parties," he grumped. Steve sighed.

"And Tony doesn't."

* * *

He downed another shot, laughing ridiculously at a joke only he heard. He leaned sluggishly against the bar, staring out at the crowd, smiling stupidly, taking another drink from a waitress passing by.

"Nice to see you're having fun," Rhodey remarked, standing beside him.

"Hey, after the she I've deal with these past few months I need a break, _Mom_," he said pointedly.

"What _did_ happen, Tony?" He asked. He took a long swig of the drink, tossing the glass behind him before swinging his head to meet his eyes.

"Nothing. Everything's fine. Go have some fun," he lied.

"Yeah, it's all good. That's why you're drinking yourself to death," he said pointedly.

Tony plucked a glass of scotch from a passing tray, brandishing it at the room in front of him. "It's a party."

* * *

Steve had to fight to contain his smile, terribly giddy and beyond excited. He avoided the cameras pointed at his as much as he could, not caring for the attention, and Bruce didn't either. It was amazing how shy he got out of his element. Once inside the large marbled ballroom Steve's eyes immediately searched for his intended, his Tony.

"I'll see if I can find him," Bruce said quietly, making his way through with a series of "excuse mes" and "sorrys" as he went. Steve pushed his way through the side, out of everyone's way, dodging a few intoxicated dames before reaching the table littered with hors d'oeuvres, sighing. He amazed himself at the lack of bravery he still lacked in crowds.

"I didn't think you were coming," he turned, meeting Pepper's weary smile.

"He asked me to come," he sighed. "Well, he told me a long time ago I was his plus one if I wanted to be here. He didn't make me or anything. And he always said that if you're important you never show up on time…" He was blushing, rambling, feeling silly. "I, um…"

"So I take it you haven't seen him ye," she graciously cut him off, mildly apprehensive.

"No, why?"

There was a loud crash behind them as a champagne tower toppled over, smashing hundreds of glasses and sending gallons of the sparkling drink across the floor. The place was silent for a moment, until Tony's laugh broke through from his spot on the floor. The crowd laughed with him, cheering and clapping and going back to their wobbly, inebriated dancing.

Bruce helped Tony to his feet, seemingly scolding him and guiding him around the dance floor toward Steve and Pepper.

The soldier had wilted, some of his happiness faded, leaving the CEO and going to meet them iin the middle. "Tony, what are you doing?"

"Hey, baby," he giggled words slurred. He fell against him, grinned stupidly. "You smell good." Steve grimaced, jaw set, eyes hard. He steadied him, pushing him back and away.

"What are you doing?"

"Enjoying myself," he smirked, toying with the buttons on his jacket, running flat palms over his chest before slinking to his back in an attempt to excite him.

"Tony, quit," he snapped, smacking his hands away, sighing when they went right back to it.

"Come on, baby, live a little," he hooked his arms around his neck. "You don't wanna kiss me in front of these people?"

"Not when you're acting like this I don't," he growled, previous excitement drained from him almost instantly.

"Hey, I thought I broke you from being such a prude!" He said much too loudly, causing Steve to flush, anger sparking next.

"Keep your voice down," he demanded, looking around. Tony chuckled, laughing at his assertion.

"Steve, when are you gonna get that you don't get anywhere in life being ashamed of _SEX_!" He advertised.

"Stop it."

"Come on, baby-"

"Tony, seriously, there's something I want to show you, let's go," he urged, trying to tug him away from the festivities so he could at least act like an idiot in private.

"You can wait," he slurred breezily, gripping his collar and yanking him close, trying to kiss him again. Steve dodged him, the smell of alcohol almost overpowering. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" Steve balked. "You're acting like a jerk, that's what's wrong with me." He took a breath, trying to keep what little patience he had left. "Tony, let's go…please."

"Oh, no, no, no," he grinned, waggling his finger, still pressed against him. "Mister I-waited-_how_-many-years-before-I-let-someone-fuck-me-"

"Tony!" Bruce scolded.

Steve scowled at the floor, a deeper blush, a growing hollow in the pit of his stomach that he pushed through, letting anger and defense fall into his voice as he grabbed his lapel and yanked him forward.

"I know why you're acting like this. I know why you're drunk and saying these awful things and it's the same reason you've been guzzling liquor since you got hurt, now let's go home," he urged, pain in his eyes that went missed, hot tears welling with it. Tonight was supposed to be so perfect…

"HEY!" Tony called out, ignoring him again, gaining the crowd's attention. "WHO WANTS TO SEE ME MAKE OUT WITH CAPTAIN AMERICA?!" They roared back with applause and cheers as a response.

A frustrated, mortified tear that even Bruce missed trekked down his cheek. He shoved Tony away again when he dove toward him, receiving boos and hisses from the apparent audience. He stared at Tony, eyes red-rimmed and bursting with humiliation.

Tony's smile finally faltered, his ethanol soaked brain trying to for coherent words to get that awful look off his sweet face.

_You're hurting him again. _

Steve took a small velvet box from inside his jacket, tossing it on the table beside him, finding no point or meaning to it anymore. The soldier took a breath, fire behind the blue as the tears receded. "Bruce helped me with it," he said stoically, no emotion or inflection found in his tone. "I hope you like it." Without another word he turned on his heel and stalked out, heart in pieces, hopes from earlier in shreds.

Tony watched him go, knowing he should stop him but having no idea what to say. He hated himself for what he'd done, disgusted that he couldn't think properly at the moment, and loathed that he'd harmed him…again. Beside him, Bruce sighed.

"Well that went well," he said, weary, patting his shoulder. "You have no idea how excited he was to give this to you. He really thought it would help and…Tony, he spent _so much time on this_. For you." He looked at the box sadly. Tony plucked it from it's unceremonious spot on the table, shamefully cracking it open.

His heart swelled and fell in an instant. So painful.

The silver ring perched in the small pillow glowed back at him, mocking him with his beauty, reflecting his mistakes. He carefully took it out, fingers shaking, feeling beyond unworthy to wear it. The metal seemed to swim in the light as you turned it. A much closer look revealed the effect. Tiny, needle point pricks of stars dotted the landscape all woven together with wisps that somehow managed to resemble the flows of energy in the newly built reactor below Stark Industries, weaving a pattern so delicate and beautiful it hurt his heart.

"Did he draw this?" He said softly, looking up to see that he'd wandered outside. Bruce nodded, still behind him.

"He drew it, I had it etched in," he explained. Tony frowned, puzzled.

"What did he need your help with?"

"I'll show you."

* * *

He led Tony down the hall to his own lab, showing him to a long table in the back, gesturing to what lie on it.

"That's why," he nodded to it, stepping back to let him see. "He asked me to help him about a week after he brought you home."

Tony stared, tears in his eyes, heart beating raggedly. He looked at the circled carved into the material, tracing it absently. "His shield. The ring's made out of his shield."


	11. Chapter 11

**-WARNING: Strong content ahead. Also credit goes to ImSexy'NdINoIt for planting lovely plot bunnies. You're a treasure, dear.-**

**A Hero's Savior**

Tony staggered off the elevator into their room, immediately looking around. "Steve!" He called, frantic. "Steve, Bruce showed me and- Steve, I'm so sorry!" He stumbled into the bedroom, looking for him, desperate. "Steve?" A note sat on the comforter, Steve's neat, looped handwriting that could only come from decades ago looking back at him. His hand trembled as he picked it up, reading it with a steadily increasing weight in his chest.

_Tony,_

_I had to get out for awhile. I just couldn't stay in that tower anymore. I'm not sure when I'll be back or when I'll be able to talk to you about what happened. I don't know._

_I still love you._

_-Steve_

Tony read and reread the note at least a dozen times, tears welling in his eyes.

_Well there you go. You happy now? Hm? You made him leave. He's gone. He left you._

He put it down as if it'd explode at any moment, the ring box falling with it. He staggered away from it and into the dresser, limbs shaking with his stuttered heartbeat. He latched onto the dresser, looking at himself in the mirror, dripping with self-loathing.

_Congratulations, the one thing holding you together left you because he can't stand. He hates you. And he should, shouldn't he?_

"Shut up," he spat, still managing to lock his tears away. "Just shut up."

_Best thing that's ever happened to you and you pushed him away. I'll bet he's crying. I'll bet you broke his heart into pieces. How's it feel to break a heart that's never loved anyone but you before?_

"Stop it!"

_You were his first everything. Heartbreak included. You disgusting, petty, self-absorbed prick._

He nodded miserably, unable to disafree with his mind anymore. It was true.

_All because you can't face what happened to you. He just wanted to help you_.

"I know. I- FUCK!" He raked his fingers through his hair, so angry.

_Because if you do tell him you have to tell him how filthy you are. What you let those things do to you._

"I didn't let them!"

_Sure you didn't. That's why you kissed it._

"No, no, that's not-"

_That's what you did._

"No-"

_You let it fuck you-_

"NO!"

_And you let Steve touch you after it had. Cheater. Adulterer. And you don't have the guts to even tell him you did._

"SHUT UP!" He struck the mirror, shattering the glass and slicing his hand open. His chest heaved with the weight of his broken heart, thudding out of time.

He vaulted away from it, going to the elevator, alcohol and agony warping his vision and sending him stumbling into it.

He rammed his fists into the metal, pushing the glass in his injured hand deeper inside, pain that went unnoticed by his numbed body.

His mind whirred with the memories of that dark place, every second. One surfaced that he'd ignored pushed so far away it almost didn't feel real. It still didn't…

* * *

Whimper, cough, shake. Breathe, swallow, sob. Bleed, sweat, cry. Survive.

Footsteps approached him and he shuddered, weakly shaking his head, begging wordlessly into the bridle in his mouth, blindfold hiding the identity of the presence. He whimpered again when it was taken away, the light harsh and sending instant pain into his head. "No, no, no…" He moaned. When the light finally faded enough to let him see he was panicking again, fighting so hard and fruitlessly to get away.

"No, no, _please_!" He begged.

"_Shh_," it hissed, grabbing his face. "You shush. You shut the fuck up and listen, alright?" Tony whimpered, still, keeping silent when the bloodied gag was pried from his lips again. "You don't want me to hurt you, do you?" He breathed, too close, lips a breath away from his. He shook his head, trembling hard.

"That's right, you don't. Good boy." He traced his chin, grinning wickedly. "You want me to keep it from hurting? You want me to do something that won't hurt?" He stared at him for a moment, the desperation in his heart forcing him to nod. Anything, _anything_ to alleviate some of this agony.

He whimpered when he pressed against him, heart pained now. "Please…"

"You don't fight and it won't hurt," he snarled, pressing his lips to his earlobe. He shuddered again.

"B-but-"

"_Hey!" _A fistful of hair as he yanked his head back. "Does this help?" He watched the man change until the eyes that looked back at him were that sweet, beautiful blue that held so much warmth. In reality he knew the stranger made them cold, that the look of compassion was simply imagined. Maybe it was his fever…

"Y-yes," he whimpered, so scared, so desperate for mitigation from this never-ending nightmare and pain. Lips sank into his neck, body hot and taking away the severe chill. "Good boy. Such a good, good boy."

* * *

He flew off the elevator, staggering to his knees and gripping the trashcan in front of him, retching violently into it, alcohol and bile burning as it came up, passing his broken heart on the way. He collapsed again, face coated in sweat, disgusted with himself.

_He'll be better off without you. You wanna break him more by telling him what you've done?_

He shuddered again, heart pounding. He couldn't do it anymore.

He screamed, thrusting his hands out to obliterate and demolish the contents of the table in front of him, sending beakers and chemicals flying in a flurry of papers and glass, shattering everything and splattering the walls. He repeated the process, chucking instruments and keyboards, knives, prototypes, anything he could get his hands on and hurling it across the room, shattering otherwise invisible screens, making others short out. And still he screamed.

He staggered over to the enclosure holding his suit, grabbing a nearly full bottle of whiskey along the way. He took a long, nearly suffocating swig before staring at it. He saw his reflection in front of the mask, one that even now couldn't protect him, couldn't hide who he was to anyone. Not anymore. He slammed his fist against the glass, managing to crack it and make himself bleed again. He hit it again. And again. And again. And again.

"Sir?" JARVIS cut in, sounding worried. "Is there something I can help you with?"

His fist went to the control pad beside him, silencing his cool, collected tone that couldn't console him. He chucked a nearby remote, caving the windshield of the car rested beside where Steve's bike had been hours before.

He took another drink, resting against the wall with broken glass at his back, done. Completely done.

_He'll be better off without you. Everyone will. You deserve to die for what you did to him. _

He couldn't argue.

"Sir-" The computer managed again, rewired to Tony's personal computer as he spoke.

"Override 455478," he rattled, muting him and locking the program to stop him from reaching the rest of the tower.

He twisted the reactor, allowing it to fall in his hand. He stared at the chord connecting it to him, his lifeline so fragile in this moment.

He gave a hard tug, feeling it give with a grunt. The pain was instantaneous, choking him with it briefly, faltering his stance. He drained another inch of the bottle, numbing it a little.

Now…

Now he'd wait.


	12. Chapter 12

**A Hero's Savior**

Steve trudged back into the tower, his chest aching, still wounded. The sting of Tony's words left his raw heart to beat a little off, hardly any of it being allowed to show on his face now. Though it was difficult to hide how swollen and red his eyes were.

Tony had acted like an idiot, an insensitive jerk that only cared about his own enjoyment. But…but that's how Tony acted when he was drunk, that's how he always behaved when under the influence and under attack. He went for the throat, for the vulnerabilities that would force you to back off and leave him be in his own little world of short-lived fun. When he wasn't under attack, when he wasn't defensive he was absolutely ridiculous. Promiscuous and brazen in his wants, but it was fine. Steve had laughed with him so many times when he was like this, knowing Tony was at least happy in his inebriation.

Tonight was different. Tonight hurt.

He forgave him, of course, but his worry for his mental health increased exponentially. He was scared, very scared, and he planned on going up to their floor and telling him just that, given that he'd managed to sober up in the past few hours.

He stepped into the living room as Bruce left the kitchen, sandwich in hand. "Hey," he said, immediately concerned.

"Hey," he nodded, voice hoarse and grating against his sore throat that was healing quicker than expected. "What happened?" The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I showed him," he said simply. "Where the ring came from, the sketches you spent all that time on, everything. And he…he took off. I don't know where he is. Or the ring for that matter." Steve frowned, panic sparking low in his stomach, gnawing at him.

"How-how long ago was that?" He demanded.

"About an hour ago. Why-?"

Steve bolted to the stairs, too impatient for the elevator, running as fast as he could to get to his lab, heart thundering.

Leaving Tony with his guilt was dangerous. He behaved even more recklessly, did a lot of stupid things –especially under the influence of alcohol- and could potentially hurt himself. Leaving Tony with his guilt could very well kill him.

"TONY!" He bellowed, hurling himself over a rail to get lower quicker, praying. "TONY, ANSWER ME!"

He skidded to a halt in front of the door, seeing the destruction inside with no sign of him. He tugged on the door, finding it locked. "TONY, LET ME IN! TONY!" Still nothing. He yanked, hard, hearing the locks groan. "JARVIS, LET ME IN!" Another hard pull, another loud creak. He finally rammed himself against the frame with adrenaline fueled force, finally barreling through it.

He searched frantically for him, gasping audibly.

"_TONY!"_

He was pale, sweating, the reactor limp in his hand, barely breathing. Steve fell to his knees beside him, grabbing it instantly. "No, no, no, no, Tony, please!" He shoved the chord inside, connecting it immediately without hiccup. He gave a soft sob of relief when he gasped, eyes opening again, coughing through it as his heart returned to its usual pattern, shrapnel pushed away again. "Jesus, Tony," he moaned. Brown eyes met his, agonized, broken eyes.

"Steve?"

"What the hell are you doing?" He demanded, hot tears leaking from his eyes. "You, you're just gonna leave me? Huh? You gonna leave me here by myself? You can't do that. You can't just leave me!" He grabbed his face, kissing him hard, holding onto him tight.

"I thought you left," he trembled, so close to tears. "I thought you were gone and I…"

"I just went to clear my head, to get away for a minute. Y-you thought I'd…? Damn it, Tony…" He kissed his forehead, still shaking with his own adrenaline.

Tony looked up at him, lips quivering. "Steve, I…" He sniffed, the first tear in months finally breaking through, cracking the dam. "I need help. Please. Please, help me."

And he broke.

Steve held him as he started to cry, the sounds ripping from his throat closer to screams than anything else. He fell into his chest, injured hands gripping his shirt as tightly as they would allow, sobbing so hard his ribs already ached.

"Shh, shhhshh, hey…shh…Oh god, Tony," he breathed, rocking him gently, pulling him into his lap, crying with him. "It's okay, shh, easy. Easy, just talk to me, babe. Let it out."

"_Y-you'll hate me!" _He hissed, hatred for himself dripping from his words.

"No, I won't. I swear to you I will not hate you. I love you. Please, Tony, just tell me what happened to you." He couldn't take it anymore. He just couldn't. The dam was already breaking, why not let everything else with it? Why not let the rest of his pain seep from him and leave him the hollow shell he was doomed to become when it left?

The words gushed from his mouth like blood from an open wound, every tiny detail falling with it. He paused only when his sobs were so harsh he couldn't breathe or speak.

And Steve held him as tightly as he could, shushing him gently when necessary, trying to keep his own breath even and his crying silent.

"…I've never prayed in my life, Steve, but I was praying for you. I was begging whatever might be listening for you to save me and then-then I realized I didn't want you anywhere _near_ that place. They could hurt you too. They could take your goodness away and I-I couldn't take that! I wanted you to stay away where they couldn't get you. If I died instead of you then-then it would be okay, right, right? God…"

Steve stared at him for a moment, in the face of a man he once told wasn't worth anything, that he needed to stop pretending to be a hero, that he wouldn't make a sacrifice for someone else. He couldn't have been more wrong. "Shh, baby, it's alright. It's okay. I love you so much, baby. Shhh…

"There's more," he said harshly, staring up at him with those big vulnerable eyes of his, so raw and exposed. "But-but I can't tell you. I c-can't…" He sobbed into his chest, wanting to melt into his arms, wishing that this situation wasn't like this. They would have already been married now if this hadn't happened. Steve would be all his and no one else's for the rest of eternity. They could be so gloriously happy right now instead of him ruining things. "I c-can't tell you what I did. What I-" He broke off, looking away from him, guilt that brought him here too overwhelming.

"Shh, shh, look at me," the gentlest touch that didn't seem possible for his size. "Whatever happened there, whatever you had to do to stay alive, is okay. You understand? Everything is okay. Don't let this break you so badly you can't put yourself together again. I forgive you," a sweet, tender kiss. "I love you."

Somehow he cried harder, his mind screaming at him to tell him, the words catching in his throat and refusing to come out. Steve let out a shaky breath against his will, hiding it immediately. Tony needed strength and calm right now, not a blubbering mess. "Tony? Baby, hey…" He pulled him into a tighter hug, pulling him between his legs and allowing his body to rest against his torso.

"I'm so sorry for what I did at the party," he whispered. "I _humiliated_ you and I'm so sorry. I didn't mean- It's okay that you- Oh god, Steve, I'm so sorry!"

"Shh, stop. Stop apologizing. I forgive you, okay? You were drunk, it's alright, okay? Now look at me," another coax of his chin to meet his eyes. "You can tell me anything, anything at all that happened there and it won't change how I see you and especially how I feel about you. When people get hurt like that…" He thought back to Bucky, how he was after he'd found him, the things he'd told him he'd had to do just to keep breathing, that the thought of moral guidance, what people think of something in the real world doesn't apply there. Making it stop is the only thing that matters. "…They-they'll do anything to make it stop, to make it hurt less. Whatever you did, I'm sure it's no worse than anything I've heard before." Tony took a few deep breaths, letting his words sink in, his head rested against his shoulder. He swallowed, plucking up courage he'd seen the Captain use time and time again, leaning up to his ear. He spoke in a quiet, almost strangled whisper, his breath rattling at points, tears clogging his throat at others.

And Steve cried too.

"It looked like me?" He breathed, looking at him, tenderly holding his cheek. Tony nodded, tears slowly leaking from his eyes, holding his breath. "Oh god…Tony, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, sweetheart. It's alright. It's okay."

"How is that okay?" He trembled. "I-I-"

"It did it to _hurt_ you, Tony. That's why it did it, to hurt you, baby. It's alright, it's alright."

"Stop saying that," he breathed, looking up at him, seeing the pain welling in his eyes, how shattered he was. "Look at you, look-"

"This isn't about me, Tony. This is about you," he said softly, kissing his forehead. He rested his forehead against his, stroking his hair back from his temples. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

"STOP APOLOGIZING!" He screamed, shuddering. "_GOD_, STEVE STOP SAYING YOU'RE SORRY FOR WHAT I DID!" Steve looked at him for a moment, watching the pain and anguish etched deep into his face, agony that had been festering inside him for months, _months_.

"Listen to me," he spoke so softly, so gently. "Please, stop hurting yourself because of this. It's not your fault. You didn't agree to anything, they forced themselves on you."

"B-but the second time-"

"No," such a soft command, "it's not your fault, Tony. Now stop it. I can tell you I forgive you until I'm blue in the face but that's not gonna help you if _you_ can't forgive you, okay?" He kissed him so carefully, holding him. "You're worth it, Tony. You're worth the pain, you're worth trying to get through to, you're worth loving, Tony."

He collapsed again, so tired, so weary. Steve held him again, shushing him softly, tears streaking down his own face. He kissed the top of his head and his cheeks, feeling as if something heavy was resting on his chest, crushing him. "It's alright. It's perfectly okay. I'm here. Right here. It's gonna get better. Shh…"

Tony wrapped his arms around his neck, letting himself be cradled in the Captain's arms, ever-still crying.

"I'm sorry I scared you," Steve whispered, still trying so hard not to envision what had happened to him and keep calm. "I'd never leave you, Tony. Not ever. I know other people have, but…but I won't. I promise."

"Okay," he whimpered, clinging to him tighter.

They sat in silence for another moment, Steve's crying reduced to silence, Tony still sobbing openly. A whir above their heads caused them to look up. Tony managed a chuckle and Steve grinned at DUM-E, who was offering them a box of tissues.

They looked at each other, and laughed.


	13. Chapter 13

**A Hero's Savior**

Tony winced, another piece of glass being plucked from his hand by the pliers, receiving an apologetic glance from Steve as he added it to the pile of shards on the table in front of him.

"So what made you think punching glass was a good idea?" He said quietly, offering a small smile.

"I took it up recently for my health," he mumbled. Steve's smile grew until he saw Tony's expression had remained blank. He frowned slightly, kissing uninjured fingers.

"It's okay, you know," he whispered after a long lapse of silence. "Getting angry. That's alright." Tony looked up at him with sad, dewy eyes that hurt his chest.

"Steve, to be honest, right now I'm so numb I don't know what I feel anymore," he said quietly, still looking at him. "I don't know what to do anymore." Steve chewed his lip, wishing he had an answer other than simply being there for him. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair.

"Me either," he said truthfully. Silence lapsed again while Steve stitched up the worst of the cuts, bandaging his hands and goading him to take some extra strength Tylenol, knowing that he only gave in because he was tired. "Let's go to bed."

Tony led the way to their bedroom, shoulders drooped, head down. Steve followed, chest aching, heart throbbing, watching him. He could _hear_ the tortured thoughts cramming inside his head, screaming at him, telling him how foolish and stupid he was for behaving the way he was.

He stopped in the middle of the room, looking at the scattered bits of broken glass strewn across the carpet, fists clenched too tight.

Steve felt another ragged thud in his chest when he knelt, picking them up with quivering fingers, sniffing. The captain waited a beat before going to him.

"Tony, hey," he said softly, taking his hands in his own, stopping him. "Just get it in the morning, sweetheart." He slowly pried his fingers open, getting the glass away before he hurt himself, slowly standing with him and tossing the shards on the dresser.

His eyes grew, then misted when Tony fell into his arms, crying again, soft, nearly inaudible. He curled his arms around him, holding him protectively, shielding him.

"Shh, I've got you. Shh…" He soothed, cheek resting against the top of his head while Tony _clung _to him with all his might. They stayed there, Steve swaying with him running fingers through his hair while Tony shuddered, releasing every bottled sob and thought, finally taking the jump with Steve as his net in case he fell.

Minutes passed before Tony slid out of his embrace, nodding his way through it, blinking rapidly before looking at him. Steve pressed a tender kiss to his forehead and his lips, smiling gently. "You need to sleep." Another nod and he sat down on the bed, sighing softly, looking at his hands.

Steve plucked the nearly forgotten velvet box off the comforter, on his knees in front of him, propping it open. Tony inhaled audibly when he saw it, a new wave of guilt crashing into him.

"Steve, I don't-"

"We're not gonna play that game, okay?" He said firmly, taking the ring out of the box. "I forgive you. You know that I do. I love you." He took his hand, carefully sliding it onto his finger, smiling. "It fits."

"It's gorgeous," he rasped. "Thank you." Steve kissed him again, stroking his cheek, offering another small smile. Tony climbed into the bed, the ring a new weight on his hand, a comforting, warm one that he hadn't stopped looking at just yet.

Steve climbed in beside him, kissing his head again, shutting his eyes when Tony curled against him.

Tony Stark. Impenetrable, strong, expressionless, snarky Tony Stark… Vulnerable, fragile, broken, small Tony Stark lying against his chest with tears seeping from his eyes, still so scared.

"Is this even real?" He breathed suddenly. Steve frowned.

"Of, of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?" He asked, watching his face in the soft glow of his reactor.

"It seems too perfect to be here with you right now," he said truthfully. "There's no way I actually got out of there. I'm still hanging from those wires half dead waiting for those things to come back and fuck me again and I'm dreaming all this. They actually let me sleep and I'm dreaming that I'm here with you. Safe." He shook his head, swallowing. "But I'm not. I'm not safe at all. I'm nothing but meat on a hook and I'm gonna wake up to a bucket of ice water being dumped over my head. And you'll be gone. You, the ring, any sort of comfort you could give me, all gone. Just…" He shut his eyes again. "Just hurry up and tell me I'm dreaming so I can die already."

"Tony…" He said, beyond shock, tears trekking down his cheeks so quickly he didn't notice them. "Tony, baby, look at me," he demanded, lifting his chin. He cradled his face, foreheads pressed together. "This," he pushed a searing kiss into his mouth, holding him tight. "This is real. Everything around you is. They're dead, they're gone. _They cannot hurt you anymore_," he swore.

He nodded, relaxing against him, tears silent, so utterly exhausted. Steve rubbed slow circles on his back, kissing his temple and praying he could actually _sleep_.

* * *

"_Stop it, stop, don't touch him_!" Tony shrieked to deaf ears.

"Stop, stop it, please!"

"_LEAVE HIM ALONE_!" No one heard him, as if he was invisible. He could neither move, nor touch, trapped to watch these monsters hurt him.

"Please, PLEASE!" Steve writhed in the bindings causing his wrists to bleed, beaten, hair mussed and such fear and pain in his eyes while the elder brother moved behind him, stroking his neck and his cheek. Younger brother claimed his mouth with a fist in his hair, choking him with his tongue.

"LET HIM GO!" Tony demanded, still unable to move. "PLEASE, HE DOESN'T- HE CAN'T- LET HIM GO!"

Steve screamed, tensing away from the "man" behind him, trying so hard to get away, trying to stay strong and hard like he'd trained himself to be. It didn't matter now. "STOP! Get out of me, GET OUT OF ME, PLEASE!" He shook his head so hard, trembling now.

"STOP FUCKING TOUCHING HIM YOU FUCKING BASTARDS! GET AWAY FROM HIM! LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

He tried to shrink away when the woman fell to her knees in front of him. "NO! I'm engaged, please, stop this. PLEASE!" He cried, whimpered and begged for an end.

"LET HIM GO! TAKE ME! TAKE ME INSTEAD, PLEASE!" Steve sobbed and cried out in pain and fear, words incoherent pleas they laughed at. So humiliated and broken, being torn apart just as they'd done to him.

"Steve, I'm so sorry," he whimpered. "_GOD DAMN IT, STOP TOUCHING HIM_!"

His eyes locking with Tony's even when Tony was sure he wasn't really there. "Help me," he said, voice small. "Help me, Tony, please. It hurts. They're hurting me. Help me, please! Please!"

"Steve…"

"Tony, wake up."

* * *

He woke with a start, gasping raggedly, Steve's half-asleep face looking back at him. "Are you okay?"

"They can't hurt you," Tony breathed, shaking, drenched in cold sweat. "They can't, they just…"

"Shh, you're right, they can't. They can't touch me or you," he nodded. Tony wrapped his arms around his neck, clinging to him fiercely. "Shh…"

* * *

Tony wandered through the decrepit warehouse, searching, endlessly searching for the source of those terrible screams in this place.

"Hello?" He called again, admittedly afraid, ready to fight if necessary. Screams again. Blood-curdling shrieks of agony that rattled his spine. "I'm coming!" He said, jogging toward the sound. "I'm coming, I can help you!"

Turn after turn, the echoes of the awful sounds coming closer with each step.

And finally, a door. "I'm here!" He called, pressing against it, hard grip on the handle in attempt to open the heavy metal slab. "I found you! I'll save you!" He rammed his shoulder against the door, pushing and ramming with all his might, trying so hard until it finally gave.

The room was silent, a lone figure kneeling in the middle of the floor, shaking in the dark. He bolted to it, still breathing hard, relieved he hadn't been too late.

"Hey, hey, are you okay?" He urged, holding their naked shoulder.

His own face stared back at him. Gaunt, pale, eyes red, drenched in blood and sweat. He didn't back away in fear this time, simply looked back.

"What can I do?" He whispered to it, hesitant. It blinked slowly, swallowing hard.

"Get me out," it said hoarsely. "Get me out of here and don't look back. It's over. Let it be over. Please."

"Alright," he said, eyes still trained on it. "Alright, let's go." He took a breath, heaving it up without further hesitation, feeling blood slick his hands and seep into his clothes immediately. It gasped and moaned as he moved, the pain immense. "Just have to get you through that door, okay? Get through there and you'll be alright. It'll be alright."

The door edged closer, gaping, showing a bright world beyond this hell, full of so much to get out there for instead of being trapped somewhere like this. The weight didn't get any lighter, in face he was sure it was getting heavier, slowing him down. He started to ache from it, the pain filling into his muscles and bones.

When he reached to doorway he realized he wasn't carrying anything anymore. The aches and pains were still there, the blood drenching him as well.

He staggered out, taking one more look at the hell he'd stayed in, the awful light, the brick wall and the bloody wires hanging from the ceiling…and left.

He heaved the door shut, despite the pain, pushing heaving until it closed with a resounding thud.

He gasped against it, body still stinging.

"Tony." He turned, looking into Steve's bright eyes and smiling face. His fiancé held out his hand, offering it to him. "Let's go."

He laced his fingers in his, smiling back.

But it was done.

It was over.

* * *

**A/N: Not the end! There's still more to come!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A Hero's Savior**

_Two weeks later…_

"Tony?" Steve called, stepping off the elevator. "Sorry I'm in late, Fury's briefing took longer than I thought." He shrugged out of his jacket, setting files on the counter. "Tony?"

"Hey," he smiled, coming out of the bedroom, unopened bottle of wine in his hands. "How'd it go?"

"Boring," he admitted. He cocked his head, curious. "What's that for?" Tony grinned again.

"Celebrating," he said, setting it down and digging long-stemmed glasses from above the stove.

"Celebrating what?" He asked, frowning. Tony spun around, snapping his fingers, smirking. Music started playing through the speakers above their heads, a soft, mildly slow melody singing through the room, one unfamiliar to the captain who was far too used to this by now.

"The day you finally learned how to dance," he said, stepping toward him. He raised his hands, gesturing to the speakers. "Sorry about the music. I know it's from the fifties, but hey, Pandora can't be perfect, right?"

Steve frowned. "What does the goddess of curiosity have to do with this?" Tony shook his head, smiling endearingly as he walked toward him, holding out his hands as he walked toward him. "You're really gonna teach me how to dance?"

"I promised I would before the wedding, didn't I?" He said, as if it were obvious.

"That…" He paused, eyes down. "That was before…before all that happened."

"Yeah, well," he cleared his throat, still managing a smile, echoes of pain flashing behind his eyes. "Playtime with some aliens isn't going to make me break my promise to you. Now get your sweet patriotic ass over here." Steve blushed, placing his hands were Tony's were open for. "Alright, just, follow my lead, okay? And try not to step on my feet too much, okay?" He teased. Steve blushed, staring at his feet.

"_Earth angel, earth angel, will you be mine? My darling dear…" _

"See? You're a natural," Tony grinned. Steve flushed deeper, giving a tiny dimpled smile.

"Guess I found the right partner," he said softly. Tony's eyes misted, pausing briefly, just looking at him. Steve dipped his head, kissing him slowly, still rocking to the song.

"…_The one I adore, love you forever. And ever more. I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you…"_

"Sorry!"

"It's okay," Tony giggled despite the new throb in his foot. "Don't watch your feet so much, just relax."

"Easy for you to say," he mumbled, trying his hardest to keep his eyes up. Tony leaned up, pressing their foreheads together to keep eye contact. "You're amazing," the captain blurted, red-cheeked and slightly flustered. He shook his head.

"_Earth angel, earth angel, will you be mine?" _

"Nah," he smiled. "Just got dragged to too many charity events when I was a kid. You'd be surprised how well eighty-year old women with bank accounts the size of Canada can dance." Steve laughed with him.

The dances changed as the songs did, both upbeat and slow, nearly falling over several times. Once they toppled over the back of the couch, Steve landing on top of him with a sharp "Oof!" from Tony when he landed on top of him.

They giggled, pressed against each other, the upbeat music dying to a slower, jazzier feel. "Baby steps," Tony chuckled, holding his face. "Baby steps, sweetheart."

"Yeah," Steve laughed, looking at him. They paused, staring at each other, gazes unwavering. The blond caught his lips with his own, chin with his fingers. Tony tangled his fingers in his hair, mussing it from its tidied style, deepening the kiss, grabbing at his neck and his shoulders. "Weren't…weren't we practicing?"

"No idea," Tony mumbled, too enraptured in his mouth, wanting his touch so desperately. "You're great, you're wonderful, spectacular, whatever just, please keep kissing me."

They kissed again and again, pressing together, tongues finding each other in the semi-darkness. "Mmph, Tony…" Steve breathed, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, engulfing him. Tony relished the feel of Steve's lips on his neck and just behind his ear, cheeks smooth from shaving, so soft and gentle.

"God you smell good," Tony gasped, lapping at Steve's mouth to gain entrance again, slow and _deep_, reaching something so far inside him, making his heart swell and almost burst against his ribcage. Steve chuckled softly, kissing sloppily until his lips were beside his ear.

"And you feel good," he whispered, barely there, just a breath against the shell of his ear before he dipped to kiss his neck again.

No sooner the words were out, however, Tony flinched away, eyes shut and a surprised cry coming from his lips.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Steve panicked, backing away immediately. Tony sat up, reaching for him, shaking his head.

"No, it's okay," he assured, "I'm fine, just…surprised. That's all."

"I scared you," Steve said, responding to Tony's hands on his arms, slowly wrapping them around him. "Oh God, Tony, you're shaking."

"It's _okay_," Tony stressed. "This shit isn't going to keep me from you, it's not gonna keep me from living my fucking life anymore. I'll get over it. It's okay." He sat up on his knees, taking Steve's face in his hands, kissing him slowly, longingly. "Alright, soldier, the wedding's in a month and we need to get you ready, got it?" Steve beamed back at him, wrapping an arm around his waist to hoist them both up.

"Okay," he said, determined. "So what next?" Tony's eyes rose to the speakers as a new tune started, grinning again.

"Time to learn to swing dance, baby."

* * *

"I don't know, what do you think?" Tony asked, looking over his shoulder at Bruce, who was fiddling with the buttons on his waistcoat. He glanced up at him, appraising the suit he had on.

"I don't know, it looks like the other _ten_ you've tried on," he sighed.

"Hey, Tony, I think your guy hemmed my pants too high," Clint sighed, glancing at Thor, who was marveling at a rack of ties.

"Just call him over again and pretend you've done this more than once in your life, you'll do fine, Big Bird," Tony remarked. Clint rolled his eyes and strolled away in search of the tailor. Tony went back to the mirror, adjusting lapels and buttons, sighing. "I don't know, it doesn't feel right." Bruce shrugged.

"I personally think it doesn't matter what style of dress you decide upon," Loki chided, always uncharacteristically quiet when he was around all of them at once, as if he were terrified to say the wrong thing. "Captain Rogers will still be willing to marry you despite your attire, yes?" Tony turned, not answering, just looking at him. "Then is it honestly worth keeping us in the shop for four hours trying to decide upon something so remedial?"

"I agree," Thor said, still not looking up from the ties.

"Yeah, besides," Clint smirked, "he's just gonna take it off anyway, isn't he?" Tony smirked.

"I'll send you the tape."

"I feel ridiculous in this," Thor said, attention finally drawn back to them. "I don't understand Midguardian attire."

"Look, if you want to be in the wedding party we're gonna give the public a decent _People_ spread to look at. Photographers don't like mismatched wedding parties."

"I'm not wearing this," Natasha growled, coming around the corner.

"It looks good," Tony remarked. She shook her head.

"I'm not wearing a damn dress, it's the most impractical article of clothing since the high heel. Which I'm also not wearing."

"If I have to, so do you," Pepper said, fiddling with her own dress in the mirror.

"I like it," Clint said, trying not to let his gaze linger on her bared shoulders or overthink how good midnight blue looked on her.

"You would," she spat, shooting him a glare. "It's too short."

"It goes to your knees. You've worn less on missions, I've seen it," Tony stated. "You're gorgeous, be done with it."

"I'm not having the public think I'm some bimbo in a skirt," she glowered, smoldering.

"Then accessorize with a thigh-holster," he said, staring at her. "Look, I'm trying to make this as perfect as I can for Steve. He's already gonna be uncomfortable marrying a man with cameras and reporters scouring the church for a glimpse at him so I want the rest to be as normal as possible. Besides, the photographer'll appreciate it."

She sighed, arms folded, turning this way and that in the mirror. "I guess it's okay." Pepper smiled, patting her shoulder.

Tony sighed, rubbing his temples, still at a loss of his own. "Fuck this, I'm wearing the suit."

"I liked the one before this one," Bruce said thoughtfully, fumbling with his cummerbund. "Not flashy, but not plain either. But I think the tie from the third one would look better with it."

Tony nodded, smiling. "See, this is why I keep you."

Bruce chuckled. "I thought it was my outstanding people skills."

"You're sort of lax in that area, Dr. Banner," Thor remarked. Bruce glanced at him, shaking his head.

"Thank you, Thor. Had no clue. Can I go home now?"

* * *

Steve sighed, sealing the last of the invitations and crossing the last thing off his personal to-do list, relieved.

And scared. He had to admit he was scared. He'd never been more anxious to get something over with in his life. The cameras, the yelling, the sheer fuss that would be made over their nuptials would be dizzying. The world was in a hurry these days already, everything so loud and fast. He didn't necessarily want his face plastered over every magazine in the country, he didn't want to hear CNN and Fox News discussing the morality of it or whether it was good for the Avengers or not. He just wanted to marry Tony in front of his friends and family and know he belonged to someone, to know Tony was his for the rest of eternity and no one would take that from him.

He sighed, knowing what a circus it would be and how he'd hate every second of it. But the moment he laid eyes on Tony it would vanish. No concern, no fear, nothing. Just him and Tony telling the world they loved each other. He smiled to himself, happy, leaning his head back against the couch to doze.

He was jolted from it when he felt someone crawl up beside him, draping a throw blanket over them. Tony nuzzled his head into his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. Steve held him back, smoothing his hair.

"I love you," Tony breathed, eyes closed.

"I love you too."

They fell asleep there, warm and wrapped up in each other.

The whole incident was an echo.


	15. Chapter 15

**A Hero's Savior**

Steve turned slightly in his sleep, something dragging him to consciousness. He smiled sleepily when he realized the soft touches to his cheeks and his neck were lips, familiar ones that left a faint sting of stubble on his skin. He chuckled slightly, turning his head away, tickled by the brush of his lips. "Good morning," he said thickly, eyes opening slowly against the morning light.

"Morning, Captain," Tony smiled, hastily covering his eyes. "Ah, ah, ah, nope."

"Why?" Steve frowned. Tony chuckled, peppering short kisses on his lips.

"Because, one of us can't see the other on the day of the wedding, so I'm taking proper precautions," he grinned, still kissing him.

"Does that make me the bride? Because you're definitely the bride," he retorted. Tony smirked.

"No, you're the bride, trust me," he teased, kissing him again.

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are. We took a vote." Steve sighed.

"Swell." Tony giggled again, gingerly taking his hand away to make sure Steve's eyes stayed closed.

"I love it when you talk nerdy to me," he said, voice low. Steve grinned. "Well, Captain Dork, I'm gonna go start getting everything ready, so…" He swallowed, giddy, nervous and terrified all at once. "So I'll see you at the altar, yeah?"

Steve grinned, stealing another kiss. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll see you there."

"I love you," Tony whispered, kissing his forehead.

"I love you too." Tony left, gently touching his hand before officially leaving, his heart swollen against his reactor, butterflies rampant in his stomach.

_I'm getting married._

Steve smiled, eyes opening when the door closed, too happy for words. He chuckled to himself, trying to imagine the day, the moment when he and Tony would be promised to each other forever, the honeymoon Tony had planned for later. His grin broadened, sighing.

_I'm getting married._

* * *

"Get back, everyone back. Come on!" Phil said, shooing people back. "I want this perimeter pushed back another block. Keep these people back. No one's allowed in with a camera but the wedding photographer, got it?" The S.H.E.I.L.D. agents obeyed immediately, scattering and pushing the press back and away from the building. "I swear, I see one unapproved picture of this wedding someone's getting fired!"

"Is it really that big of a deal if they get a few pictures?" Maria asked, glancing at him. "I mean, they knew it was bound to happen."

"I'm not pushing them back for Stark and the Captain Roger's sake," he explained. "I'm doing it for theirs." She cocked her head, confused. "Well, I personally wouldn't want to get caught peeking in a room full of superheroes, would you?" She chuckled.

"Good point."

* * *

Steve straightened his medal for the hundredth time, swallowing hard. The flowers were out, guests filing in, music playing to buy time. He took a breath, hands shaking.

_I don't think this is what Mom had in mind when she said she wanted you to meet someone special,_ he told himself.

_You're right. It's better._

_What would Bucky think?_

_Bucky'd be happy that I was having...Uh, you know. He'd probably think it was funny it's Howard Stark's son, too. _

_This goes against everything you believed in. _

_Times change. I can too._

_This isn't your time._

_Tony's made it my time. Tony's my destiny. Tony's the only good thing that came out of me being frozen in that ice. He's why I'm here. He's everything to me. He's marrying me, for God's sake. I got Tony Stark to settle down. If that isn't devotion and love I don't know what is._

_Considering you've never been in a relationship besides this one, how would you know what love does or doesn't feel like?_

_I…I just do._

"Steve?" Natasha poked her head in, snapping him out of his daze. "You ready?" He took a deep breath, swallowing excitement, and nodded, voice gone. She gave him a rare smile. "You know, it doesn't matter if you fall on your face or trip, or fumble over your words or knock someone over. Tony's still gonna think you're the most amazing thing he's ever seen."

He smiled back at her, nervously scratching his neck. "You think so?" She chuckled, shaking her head a little.

"You should see how he looks at you when your back's turned, Steve." He blushed a little. "Now come on. Time to make an honest man out of the world's most eligible bachelor."

* * *

"Okay, so fair warning, I'm not good at this," Tony admonished, holding a hand out to the people seated in the pews, charming smile in place while they chortled. Steve grinned, trying not to blush. Tony's attention fell back to him, still smiling. "But, um, Steve…I'm gonna be honest, when I met you, all I could think about was all those stories Dad told about you. How strong and amazing you were. And then, then I see you and you're the biggest dork I've ever seen."

The captain laughed with the room, chewing his lip. "But that was okay," Tony continued. "I could live with that. What I couldn't live with was how ungodly attractive he was." He took his hands. "And sweet, and literally the bravest man I've ever met. Day after day of seeing him, helping him learn about this insane country, showing him what a cynical place America is now and getting to know him I…I screwed up." He grinned at him, squeezing his hands tighter. "I fell in love with a coworker." More heartfelt laughter, stagnant tears in Steve's eyes. "I fell in love with the most amazing human being on the face of the planet and the universe was kind enough to keep him on ice until I got here." Steve pursed his lips to keep tears back, smiling shyly at him. "Getting here, getting to stand here with you has been the most difficult thing I've ever had to do, and I made the Iron Man suit.

"I don't deserve you, Steve, but I hope, I know that I will do everything I can to make you happy every day for the rest of our lives. I love you, and I can't wait to be married to you."

Steve wanted to kiss him now, not wait for the say so. He stopped himself, looking in his eyes, waiting for the roar to die down.

"Well how the heck am I supposed to top that?" He said, shy, watching Clint and Bruce laugh over Tony's shoulder. "I know this is a wedding, but leave it to Tony to turn any occasion into a show, huh?" He winked at him, teasing.

"You know, I…I didn't have that super-soldier junk for very long before I fell in that glacier. Wasn't used to it. I didn't like the attention that came with it, I didn't like people trying to make me into something I wasn't, either. All I wanted to do was help people and keep my home safe. And I wake up after putting that stupid box in the ocean and my whole world gets turned upside down. And then…then I met Tony, and I couldn't stand the guy." Tony giggled. "And he didn't like me very much either but…but something happened, something I didn't understand. I mean wi-fi was hard enough let alone falling for another man, right?" He paused. "I did fall, though. I fell hard and I didn't get it at first. After awhile I just stopped worrying about it so much and let myself be with him. Best decision of my life. I'm here with you now and…and this isn't how it goes, you know. I'm not supposed to marry a billionaire! I…I'm just a kid from Brooklyn. But I'm gonna do everything I can to be more than that for you. To be everything for you.

"Tony, you helped me understand this world, understand myself, and showed me it was okay to love you. And I can't wait to get our lives started."

Ten minutes later Tony practically leapt into his arms, kissing him hard and deep with enough passion flowing between them to nearly blow the windows out.

There was clapping and cheers, bubbles and birdseed tossed through the air while they held hands and grinned at each other, smiles so broad it hurt their cheeks, rings in place on both of their fingers linking them for the rest of their lives.

* * *

"Tony, you're drunk!" Steve giggled, allowing himself to be swung around on the dance floor.

"You would be too if you could actually get drunk!" Tony called over the music, bowtie loose, hair a mess. Steve grinned at him, his own jacket shed hours before, pressing kisses to his husband's –_husband's-_ neck as he held him, so happy. "Are Clint and Natasha making out in the corner?"

"Yes," Steve laughed, glancing over his shoulder.

"Quick, someone get a picture before they deny the whole thing tomorrow!" He exclaimed.

"I have a better idea!" Steve yelled over the music.

"Anything, baby," he beamed. Steve swung him around, dipping him low to make him smile.

"What do you say you and I get this whole honeymoon thing goin'?" Tony grinned, staring up at him through the lights and the blaring music, staring at his face. The sweat that dusted his brow and limped his hair, suspenders hugging his body, sleeves rolled up, and my god, he was dressed like an eighty year old. Well, ninety-two to be specific. _Hottest ninety-two year old I've ever fucking seen. _He chewed his lip, sighing softly.

"Why are we still here?"

* * *

**A/N:** I think we know what's coming next, right?


	16. Chapter 16

**A Hero's Savior**

The plane ride over was way too long, and Tony was restless. The time allowed him to be almost completely sober when they landed, but it didn't keep his hands and lips from roaming, teasing and nearing the Captain to the brink of madness by the time they got to their room.

Everything looked so soft and lush, champagne chilled in a sweating bucket, candles giving the place a gentle glow. Neither of them took much time to notice.

Steve, already flushed and desperate, immediately slammed the door, lifted Tony into his arms and shoved him against it, forging their lips together and demanding entrance to his mouth. Tony allowed it, moaning softly into the kiss and grabbing onto him, getting closer to him, the thin layers of clothing keeping their skin from touching infuriating to the both of them. Tongues tangled and danced together fluidly, finding a rhythm.

Tony's fingers found their way into Steve's hair, tugging softly. Steve moaned quietly, tightening his grip on his hips. The billionaire's hands slipped down to the buttons of Steve's shirt, exposing just a bit of skin before running into yet another barrier in the form of his undershirt. He grunted in frustration.

"You know, I think this is supposed to be much easier than you're making it," he said breathlessly, forgiving everything when Steve's lips moved to his neck, tasting him just so, making his eyes flutter closed and his voice dwindle to a soft whimper. Steve smiled, smug, happily being the only person alive that could shut Tony Stark up.

He took him from the wall and moved to the bed, carefully setting him on the mattress. He straightened up, ripping off his shirt to save him time before dropping to his knees and unbuttoning Tony's.

Tony's hands immediately went to his back, snaking over his flesh, watching a blush rise to his cheeks and his chest, kneading and kissing what he could reach.

Steve mouthed over his collarbone, down his chest, around the reactor, lost in him. It took some time to realize that Tony had stopped breathing.

He looked up. Immediate concern reaching his eyes. "Tony?" He straightened up, waiting for his husband to look at him.

"Sorry," he said softly, eyes still away from him. "You'd figured I'd be used to all this," he gestured to his body. Steve saw the scars then, fresh and pink, some puckered, others clean. Some would disappear with time and others... "by now. But, um, but I'm not. And the last time we did this it was a lot darker."

Last time. Last time was months ago in Tony's car, the lab black other than the circle of light in his chest. So dark he hadn't seen these before, not since they'd been fresh, bandaged and stitched by Bruce. He hadn't realized until now that he honestly hadn't seen Tony in less than a t-shirt since it happened.

"Tony, have…have you been trying to keep this from me?" He asked softly, tone free of accusation.

"I guess so," he said, chuckling ruefully.

"Damn it, Tony, why?" He asked, still gentle.

"To keep that look off your face," he said pointedly, wanting to shrink into himself and hide his body yet again. "I don't like being reminded of-of that every day, but it's a part of me. You, on the other hand, don't have to be. So why should I put you through that?"

"Because I'm your _husband_, Tony. We're supposed to share this kind of thing with each other. For better or worse, right?" He implored. He cautiously spread his hands onto his skin, thumb smoothing over the pinked flesh. Tony winced. "This doesn't make you ugly, o-or a reminder of pain, Tony. This makes me remember how brave you are, how strong you are, and even though you won't say it, how much you need someone to be here for you." He caught his cheek in his palm, guiding him to a kiss. "Now I believe I was promised an old-fashioned wedding night?" He smiled at him, that small dimpled grin that he couldn't help but reciprocate every time.

"Is that your old-fashioned or my old-fashioned, 'cause I'm pretty sure my kind of old-fashioned is your present," he smirked. Steve rolled his eyes.

"Shut up and kiss me." He obliged immediately, sighing when Steve's arms wrapped around him, his soft flesh touching his own, so warm and inviting. His lips went to his neck, kissing deeply and tugging his shirt off completely. Tony caught his mouth, stealing a kiss and his breath, pulling him closer, combing his fingers through his hair. Steve brought himself to the edge of the bed, between Tony's legs and cradling his cheeks, kissing softly, gingerly.

Tony ripped open Steve's pants, roughly raking his hands over his hips before sliding open palms back behind him, squeezing the firm flesh that resided there. Steve keened, rocking into him, falling forward so the genius was beneath him.

"I will never get over how fuckin' beautiful you are," he breathed, mouth beside his ear, nipping at his lobe to feel him shiver in his hands.

"Amazing what a bottle can do, huh?" He joked, breathless.

"I meant everywhere, not just this," he thumbed his skin again, pressing almost sloppy kisses to his jaw and just behind his ear. "Inside, outside,_ everywhere._" His hand slipped around front, palming him through his underwear. His breath stuttered, hips twitching again.

"Stop talking and _do something about it!"_ He growled, an edge of desperation in his tone. Steve shimmied and worked his way out of his slacks, tugging Tony's open and quite literally tearing them off of him.

"Those were Armani," Tony remarked.

"They were also in the way."

Steve kissed absolutely everywhere he could reach, finally naked with his equally bare husband pressed against him, lying on sheets softer than anything he'd ever felt in his life. His fingers skimmed over his thighs, working further inward and gently spreading his legs.

"This okay?" He whispered, looking up at him. Tony nodded, voice caught somewhere in his throat, arousal winning out over any fear that might be present. "I'm here, I've got you, and I want you."

"Right here, ready and waiting," he whispered, smiling. Steve grinned, kissing him again, lips moving down his chest, sinking further.

Tony's body tensed, a moan escaping his lips. His back arched, hands clamoring for something to hold onto and finding them fisted in Steve's hair, urging, tugging and stroking. Steve sucked harder, fingers touching him ever-so-gently. Tony opened his legs wider, inviting, a low whine in his throat. "Steve!"

"Right here, baby. Shh…" Steve worked slowly, dragging out each movement to make him writhe and moan, fingers working lower, slicked from a bottle he'd taken from the table beside the bed. He felt Tony's hands clench and unclench in his hair, tugging and desperate. His eyes rose, lips still wrapped around him, tongue teasing him, watching him.

He was lost, all sweat and whimpers and pleases. Constant mantras of Steve's name coupled with gasps for air. Open, trusting Steve with every inch of him, with his heart right there for him to reach, mapped out by the circle of light in his chest.

_Don't hurt me, don't hurt me, Steve. Don't make me afraid again. I can't take it…._

"Hey," soft lips on his, bringing him out of his daze. "It's okay."

"I'm fine," he assured, smiling. Steve kissed him again, holding him.

"Then why are you shaking?"

"Anticipation?" He offered. He took a breath, noting Steve's expression. "Look, it's a lot to take in at the moment. I could lie to you and tell you I'm back in the swing of things, but I'm not. It, it's almost too much, you know? And…and last time was a little more intimate than this."

"We could get in the closet," Steve grinned. Tony smiled back. "Or, we could just take it slow. Really slow." He nodded, swallowing hard.

"Yeah, that sounds…I'd like that."

Steve kissed him for what felt like years, so gentle and soft. He kissed his neck, up and under his jawline, his hands working slowly over him, just barely caressing his skin. "I've got you. I'm right here." His arms wrapped around him, holding him close. Tony's wrists locked around his neck, allowing him to part his legs again. He caught his lips, kissing him deeply.

"This okay?" Steve breathed, forehead pressed against his. Tony nodded, smiling nervously.

"Hell yeah," he chuckled. "Besides, if we don't consummate the marriage the villagers will riot and the king might get overthrown." Steve laughed with him, nuzzling their noses together. "And it does help that you're the hottest thing I've ever seen." They kissed again, Tony relaxing in Steve's arms, breathing slowly.

"You're the most handsome fella I've seen, so we're even," Steve smiled. Tony grinned endearingly.

"You're such a dork."

Steve's fingers laced in his, still kissing so softly to keep his mind as well as his body with him, as he slowly edged forward, his free hand on Tony's cheek, shushing him gently.

Tony's eyes rolled shut, moaning softly, exposing his neck to the captain and smirked when he took advantage of the position. A barrage of images were trying to break through, hurtling themselves at the wall of the all-consuming _"STEVE"_ to hurt him, to falter him. And this time it wasn't gonna work. Not on his honeymoon.

"Yes…" He breathed. "More." Steve rolled his hips, eliciting a gasp from the man beneath him, and stilled, smiling coyly. Tony grunted in frustration.

"Think you're cute, huh?"

"You tell me I'm cute all the time."

"Don't toy with me, Rogers," he warned, staring up at him. "I'm rich and powerful, remember?"

"I don't care," he smiled, smug. "And it's Stark."

Tony was cut off by him moving again, his hands clenching his shoulders, groaning. "Whatever you –_oh shit- _say." Steve's arm slipped underneath him, hugging him to him, watching his expression with awe. The sheer knowledge of _"I'm doing that"_ enough to hurry his thrusting again. Tony moaned again, eyes opening and a grin spreading across his cheeks. "See something you like?"

Steve's eyes darkened, sending a shiver through the billionaire as he dipped to kiss him, rolling harder and deeper. Tony kept their lips sealed together, absolutely engulfed in him. His skin and the light scent of sweat flooded his senses, soft skin and taut muscles hot under his hands. Nothing else existed and nothing else needed to. Finally, Steve broke the kiss, the hunger still blazing in his eyes. "I think I do," he growled.

"God, you're hot."

Steve watched Tony fall apart beneath him, so utterly lost, wanting and accepting Steve's touches. He arched into his hands while they traveled down his torso. He gasped, and even smiled a little, when Steve's hand wrapped around him, moan low and deep in his throat this time. "Fuck, Steve…"

Steve was still nervous when it came to this part. He wasn't as well practiced as he'd like to be and he still felt as if he wasn't doing something right, or not moving fast enough or well enough. Touching Tony here made him feel so utterly self-conscious it was stifling.

"Keep goin', baby," Tony urged, touching his arm, whether he sensed his anxiety or not left a mystery. "Feels so good, Steve. Feels so fucking good, oh my god…" Mystery solved.

Steve stroked in a separate rhythm of his thrusts, taking the extra time to tease him, somehow coherent in his own haze of pleasure to do so. "Tony," he breathed.

His hands slid up his chest, eyes open now, watching his powerful body moved so slick and gorgeous. He tweaked his nipples, listening to the gasps that burst out of his swollen lips, legs wrapped tight around his waist and squeezing harder. "Come on, babe, _please_," he urged.

Steve altered his position, sitting up more and lifting Tony's hips, snapping his own into him, hard, the sound echoing through the room along with their whimpers, grunts and moans as their bodies responded.

"T-Tony…"

"Me too, oh Christ, _yes!_" He spilled over Steve's hands, white dotted behind his eyes, hands scrambling for something to hold onto, urging him to his own release while he rode out his own.

"T-Tony, I- Oh, shit!"

* * *

Steve leaned back against Tony's chest in the tub, looking up at him, smiling softly. "What?" Tony smiled back, moving the wet pieces of his hair from his face.

"I'm just really happy," he remarked, blushing now. Tony kissed his cheek, holding him to him.

"Me too," he grinned.

Now, finally, everything could be put behind them.

Maybe.

* * *

"It didn't work?"

"No. Our allies were killed."

He hung his head, growling in frustration. "Can't find good help these days, can we?" He snarled.

"We could-"

"Shut up!" He spat, still not facing the other. He sighed, rubbing his temple. "Well, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, don't you?" He grinned.

"What are you suggesting, sir?"

"We're going to earth." He took a vial from his pocket, twirling it in his fingers. "And this time weakening them won't be so tedious."

**THE**

**END**

* * *

**A/N:** THANK YOU! Thankyouthankyouthankyouthan kyouthankyou ALL so much for putting up with my slow updating and being so genuinely awesome for reading this. I love each and every one of you so much! And yes, **there will be a sequel.** You're all beautiful and God bless!


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